A Collection of old ballads. Corrected from the best and most ancient copies extant. With introductions historical, critical, or humorous. Illustrated with copper plates

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Ambrose Philips
Printed for J. Roberts; and sold by J. Brotherton, A. Bettesworth, 1725 - Ballads, English
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Page 219 - 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 218 - So shall the fairest face appear, When youth and years are flown: Such is the robe that kings must wear, When death has reft their crown.
Page 191 - We wanted no brawn nor souse. When this old cap was new. We took not such delight In cups of silver fine : None under the degree of a knight In plate drank beer or wine : Now each mechanical man Hath a cupboard of plate for a show ; Which was a rare thing then, When this old cap was new.
Page 243 - And thought I ne'er could alter ; But Mary Gray's twa pawky een, They gar my fancy falter. Now Bessy's hair's like a lint-tap ; She smiles like a May morning, When Phoebus starts frae Thetis...
Page 253 - I'll aye remember ; But now her frowns make it decay, It fades as in December. Ye rural powers, who hear my strains, Why thus should Peggy grieve me ? Oh ! make her partner in my pains, Then let her smiles relieve me.
Page 260 - Fu' snug in a glen, where nane cou'd see, The twa, with kindly sport and glee, Cut frae a new cheese a whang : The priving was good, it pleas'd them baith, To lo'e her for ay, he gae her his aith. Quo' she, to leave thee I will be laith, My winsome Gaberlunzie-man. O kend my minny I were wi' you, Hl-fardly wad she crook her mou', Sic a poor man she'd never trow, After the Gaberlunzie-man.
Page 189 - When this old cap was new. Good hospitality Was cherish'd then of many ; Now poor men starve and die, And are not help'd by any ; For charity waxeth cold, And love is found in few ; This was not in time of old, When this old cap was new.
Page 241 - THE LASS OF PATIE'S MILL.(i) THE lass of Patie's mill, So bonny, blyth, and gay, In spite of all my skill, She stole my heart away. When tedding of the hay, Bare-headed on the green, Love 'midst her locks did play, And wanton'd in her een. Her arms white, round, and smooth, Breasts rising in their dawn, To age it would give youth To press 'em with his hand : Thro' all my spirits ran An extasy of bliss, When I such sweetness fand Wrapt in a balmy kiss.
Page 190 - A man might then behold At Christmas, in each hall Good fires to curb the cold, And meat for great and small. The neighbors were friendly bidden, And all had welcome true, The poor from the gates were not chidden, When this old cap was new.
Page 219 - That face, alas! no more is fair; Those lips no longer red: Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death, And every charm is fled. The hungry worm my sister is; This winding-sheet I wear: And cold and weary lasts our night, Till that last morn appear.

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