English and Scottish Ballads, Volume 7

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Francis James Child
Little, Brown, 1860 - Ballads, English
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Page 23 - My nephew good, the Douglas said, What recks the death of ane; Last night I dream'da dreary dream And I ken the day's thy ain. My wound is deep, I fain would sleep; Take thou the vanguard of the three, And hide me by the braken bush That grows on yonder lilye lee. O bury me by the braken bush, Beneath the blooming brier; Let never living mortal ken That ere a kindly Scot lies here.
Page 52 - Rabby there was slain, Whose prowess did surmount. For Witherington needs must I wail, As one in doleful dumps ; For when his legs were smitten off, He fought upon his stumps.
Page 20 - O wha's the lord of this castle, Or wha's the lady o't ? " But up spake proud Lord Percy, then, And O but he spake hie ! " I am the lord of this castle, My wife's the lady gay...
Page 49 - 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 53 - Was with an arrow slain. 0 heavy news ! king James did say, Scotland can witness be, 1 have not any captain more Of such account as he.
Page 93 - How long shall fortune faile me nowe, And harrowe me with fear and dread ? How long shall I in bale abide, In misery my life to lead ? " To fall from my bliss, alas the while...
Page 67 - But the arrow bounded back agen. Then Horseley spyed a privye place With a perfect eye in a secrette part ; Under the spole of his right arme He smote Sir Andrew to the heart.
Page 33 - The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat We have kyld, and cast to carry them a-way : * Be my troth," sayd the doughte Dogglas agayn, " Ther-for the ton of us shall de this day.
Page 44 - The hunting of that day. The stout Earl of Northumberland, A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summer's days to take; The chiefest harts in Chevy-Chase To kill and bear away.
Page 275 - Three daughters fair had he, So princely seeming beautiful, As fairer could not be. So on a time it pleas'd the king A question thus to move, Which of his daughters to his grace Could shew the dearest love : For to my age you bring content, Quoth he, then let me hear, Which of you three in plighted troth The kindest will appear.

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