Vagabond Songs and Ballads of Scotland: With Many Old and Familiar Melodies, Volume 2

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Robert Ford
A. Gardner, 1901 - Scottish ballads and songs - 259 pages
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Page 160 - In behint yon auld fail dyke, I wot there lies a new-slain knight; And naebody kens that he lies there, But his hawk, his hound and his lady fair.
Page 218 - His hair was curled in order, At the rising of the sun, In comely rows and buckles smart That about his ears did run; And before there was a toupee That some inches up did grow, And behind there was a long queue That did o'er his shoulders flow, Oh! we ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo!
Page 11 - Bedesmen are an order of paupers to whom the kings of Scotland were in the custom of distributing a certain alms, in conformity with the ordinances of the Catholic Church, and who were expected in return to pray for the royal welfare and that of the state.
Page 221 - For this prince of good old fellows that alack-a-day ! is dead; For this prince of worthy fellows, and a pretty man also, That has left the Salt-market in sorrow, grief, and wo ; For it ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mo ! RETALIATION.
Page 62 - For I'ma piper to my trade, My name is Rob the Ranter ; The lasses loup as they were daft, When I blaw up my chanter. " " Piper,
Page 164 - And when she cam' ben, he bowed fu' low; And what was his errand he soon let her know. Amazed was the Laird when the lady said, "Na," And wi' a laigh curtsie she turned awa'.
Page 163 - A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree. His wig was weel pouther'd and as gude as new; His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue: He put on a ring...
Page 160 - Wi ae lock o his gowden hair We'll theek our nest when it grows bare. "Mony a one for him makes mane, But nane sail ken where he is gane; Oer his white banes when they are bare, The wind sail blaw for evermair.
Page 164 - 'Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben, She 's wanted to speak to the Laird o' Cockpen." Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine : " And what brings the Laird at sic a like time ?" She put aff her apron, and on her silk gown, Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and gaed awa
Page 202 - Rivin' her hair. Saddled and bridled And booted rade he; Toom hame cam the saddle But never cam he! "My meadow lies green, And my corn is unshorn, My barn is to bigg, And my babie's unborn.

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