The Scottish Ballads

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W. Tait, 1829 - Ballads, Scots - 399 pages
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Page 64 - To mount the first before us a'. He has ta'en the watchman by the throat, He flung him down upon the lead — "Had there not been peace between our lands, Upon the other side thou hadst gaed ! "Now sound out, trumpets!" quo' Buccleuch; "Let's waken Lord Scroope right merrilie !" Then loud the warden's trumpet blew — 0 who dare meddle wi me?
Page 63 - Where are ye gaun, ye mason lads, Wi' a' your ladders, lang and hie?' ' We gang to herry a corbie's nest, That wons not far frae Woodhouselee.1 'Where be ye gaun, ye broken men?' Quo' fause Sakelde ; 'come tell to me!
Page 174 - The greenwood path to meet her brother: They sought him east, they sought him west, They sought him all the Forest thorough; They only saw the cloud of night, They only heard the roar of Yarrow! ' No longer from thy window look, Thou hast no son, thou tender mother! No longer walk, thou lovely maid!
Page 65 - And when we cam to the lower prison, Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie — " O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie, Upon the morn that thou's to die ? " "OI sleep saft, and I wake aft, It's lang since sleeping was fley'd frae me ; Gie my service back to my wife and bairns, And a' gude fellows that spier for me.
Page 282 - How could you say my face was fair, And yet that face forsake? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break?
Page 7 - He hadna gane a step, a step, A step but barely ane, When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, And the salt sea it came in. ' Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith, Another o' the twine, And wap them into our ship's side, And let na the sea come in.
Page 113 - And a' by the light of the moon, Until they came to yon wan water, And there they lighted down.
Page 5 - O whare will I get a skeely skipper, To sail this new ship of mine?' O up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the King's right knee, 'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor That ever sailed the sea.
Page 389 - The bittern clamour'd from the moss, The wind blew loud and shrill ; Yet the craggy pathway she did cross To the eiry Beacon Hill. " I watch'd her steps, and silent came Where she sat her on a stone ; — No watchman stood by the dreary flame, It burned all alone.
Page 389 - But it was not English gore. He lighted at the Chapellage, He held him close and still; And he whistled thrice for his little foot-page, His name was English Will. "Come thou hither, my little...

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