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Lo, in the lyf of Seint Kenelm I rede, |
345 | That was Kenulphus sone, the noble kyng, |
| Of Mercenrike how Kenelm mette a thyng. |
| A lite er he was mordred, on a day |
| His mordre in his avysioun he say. |
| His norice hym expowned every deel |
350 | His sweven, and bad hym for to kepe hym weel |
| For traisoun, but he nas but seven yeer oold, |
| And therfore litel tale hath he toold |
| Of any dreem, so hooly is his herte. |
| By God! I hadde levere than my sherte |
355 | That ye hadde rad his legende, as have I. |
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Why in the 'Life' of Saint Kenelm I read |
345 | Who was Kenelphus' son, the noble king |
| Of Mercia, how Kenelm dreamed a thing; |
| A while before he was murdered, so they say, |
| His own death in a vision saw, one day. |
| His nurse interpreted, as records tell, |
350 | That vision, bidding him to guard him well |
| From treason; but he was but seven years old, |
| And therefore 'twas but little he'd been told |
| Of any dream, so holy was his heart. |
| By God! I'd rather than retain my shirt |
355 | That you had read this legend, as have I. |
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