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babes ballad Barnwel bespake bower brave call'd dame dear death Derry Dido doth earl England eyes fair Eleanor fair flower fair lady fair Scotland Falero father fear flower of Northumberland foes Follow gallant gold grace grief hand hart hath heart hearts delight heire of Linne High trolollie Islington John Dory knight land lero little Musgrave live loley London lord Barnard lord of Linne lord Thomas lovers lully maid maidens merry mistress mother never noble Nowell payne Percy pound pray prince prison queen quoth ride Rosamond sayd Scotish Scotland sigh sing slain song sore sorrow stanza steed strand stryfe sung sweet Sweet-William tears tell thee thing THOMAS DELONEY thou art thou little thou shalt three ravens Troly true love unto wanton wassel wend wife wilt wold words wyff wyll
Page 224 - With that there came an arrow keen Out of an English bow, Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart, A deep and deadly blow ; Who never spoke more words than these : Fight on, my merry men all ; For why, my life is at an end, Lord Percy sees my fall.
Page 224 - Then leaving life, Earl Percy took The dead man by the hand ; And said, " Earl Douglas, for thy life Would I had lost my land. " O Christ ! my very heart doth bleed With sorrow for thy sake ; For sure, a more redoubted knight Mischance did never take.
Page 226 - He had a bow bent in his hand, Made of a trusty tree ; An arrow of a cloth-yard long Up to the head drew he...
Page 222 - Then stept a gallant squire forth, Witherington was his name, Who said, I would not have it told To Henry our king for shame, That e'er my captain fought on foot, And I stood looking on. You...
Page 62 - Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing die.
Page 88 - I drawe you to record, lords," he said, With that he cast him a gods-pennie : " Now by my fay," sayd the heire of Linne, " And here, good John, is thy money." And he pull'd forth three bagges of gold, And layd them down upon the bord ; All woe begone was John o' the Scales, Soe shent he cold say never a word.
Page 60 - It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding : Sweet lovers love the spring.
Page 221 - And take your bows with speed: " And now with me, my countrymen, Your courage forth advance; For...