Old English Ballads

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Francis Barton Gummere
Ginn, 1894 - 380 ページ
 

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168 ページ - O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?" "I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down." "Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome, young man?
195 ページ - There lived a wife at Usher's Well And a wealthy wife was she ; She had three stout and stalwart sons, And sent them o'er the sea. They hadna...
145 ページ - Late late yestreen I saw the new moone, Wi the auld moone in hir arme, And I feir, I feir, my deir master, That we will cum to harme.
196 ページ - Blow up the fire, my maidens! Bring water from the well! For a' my house shall feast this night, Since my three sons are well.
lvii ページ - Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book ; he hath not eat paper, as it were ; he hath not drunk ink : his intellect is not replenished ; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts...
204 ページ - Their beds are made in the heavens high, Down at the foot of our good lord's knee, Weel set about wi' gillyflowers : , I wot sweet company for to see.
119 ページ - Where be ye gaun, ye broken men ?' Quo' fause Sakelde ; ' come tell to me !' Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band, And the never a word o' lear had he. ' Why trespass ye on the English side ? Row-footed outlaws, stand!' quo' he; The never a word had Dickie to say, Sae he thrust the lance through his fause bodie.
118 ページ - He has call'd him forty marchmen bauld, I trow they were of his ain name, Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, call'd The laird of Stobs, I mean the same.
165 ページ - And first came out the thick, thick blood, And syne came out the thin, And syne came out the bonny heart's blood ; There was nae mair within. She's rowd him in a cake o lead, Bade him lie still and sleep ; She's thrown him in Our Lady's draw-well, Was fifty fathom deep. When bells were rung, and mass was sung, And a' the bairns came hame, When every lady gat hame her son, The Lady Maisry gat nane.
114 ページ - good Lord, yf thy will it be! I have a hondrith captayns in Ynglonde," he sayd, "as good as ever was he: But, Perse, and I brook my lyffe, thy deth well quyte shall be.

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