Selections from the Early Ballad Poetry of England and Scotland

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Richard John King
Pickering, 1842 - Всего страниц: 291
 

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Стр. 273 - It fell about the Martinmas, When nights are lang and mirk, The carline wife's three sons came hame, And their hats were o' the birk. It neither grew in syke nor ditch, Nor yet in ony sheugh ; But at the gates o' Paradise That birk grew fair eneugh. 'Blow up the fire, my maidens I Bring water from the well ! For a' my house shall feast this night, Since my three sons are well.
Стр. 279 - O wha is this has done this deed, And tauld the king o' me, To send us out, at this time of the year, To sail upon the sea ? " Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, Our ship must sail the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis we must fetch her hame." They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may; They hae landed in Noroway, Upon a Wodensday.
Стр. 172 - I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet...
Стр. 174 - With fifteen hundred bowmen bold, All chosen men of might, Who knew full well in time of need To aim their shafts aright.
Стр. 281 - O, where will I get a gude sailor To take my helm in hand, Till I get up to the tall top-mast To see if I can spy land ?" " O here am I, a sailor gude, To take the helm in hand, Till ye get up to the tall top-mast ; But I fear you'll ne'er spy land.
Стр. 224 - I digg'da grave, and laid him in, And happ'd him with the sod sae green. But think na ye my heart was sair, When I laid the moul...
Стр. 217 - He's lifted her on a milk-white steed, And himself on a dapple grey. With a bugelet horn hung down by his side, And slowly they baith rade away. O they rade on, and on they rade, And a...
Стр. 223 - There came a man, by middle day, He spied his sport, and went away; And brought the king that very night, Who brake my bower, and slew my knight. He slew my knight, to me sae dear ; He slew my knight, and poin'd his gear : My servants all for life did flee, And left me in extremitie.
Стр. 4 - In this our spacious isle, I think there is not one, But he hath heard some talk of him and little John; And to the end of time, the tales shall ne'er be done, Of Scarlock, George-a-Green, and Much the miller's son, Of Tuck the merry friar, which many a sermon made, In praise of Robin Hood, his out-laws, and their trade.
Стр. 192 - Light down, light down now, true Thomas, And lean your head upon my knee; Abide ye there a little space, And I will show you ferlies three.

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