Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England: Taken Down from Oral Recitation and Transcribed from Private Manuscripts, Rare Broadsides and Scarce Publications

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J.W. Parker and Son, 1857 - Ballads, English - 252 pages
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Page 149 - The moon shines bright, and the stars give a light, A little before it is day ; So God bless you all, both great and small, And send you a joyful May !" In London, May-day was once as much observed as it was in any rural district.
Page 56 - Come, fetch me some of your father's gold, And some of your mother's fee; And two of the best nags out of the stable, Where they stand thirty and three.' She fetched him some of her father's gold, And some of her mother's fee; And two of the best nags out of the stable, Where they stood thirty and three. She mounted her on her milk-white steed, He on the dapple grey; They rode till they came unto the sea side, Three hours before it was day.
Page 39 - Thou art e'en such, — Gone with a touch. Thus think, and smoke tobacco. And when the smoke ascends on high, Then thou beholdst the vanity Of worldly stuff, Gone with a puff. Thus think, and smoke tobacco.
Page 148 - For that's a Maiden's fee!" But they, instead of three, did give them half a score; And they, in kindness, gave them, gave them, gave them as many more. Then after an hour They went to a bower, And played for Ale and Cakes ; And kisses too ! Until they were due, The Lasses kept the stakes. The Girls did then begin to quarrel with the men, And bid them take their kisses back ; and give them their own again.
Page 185 - Now Satan has got the old wife on his back, And he lugged her along, like a pedlar's pack.
Page 146 - Willie has gotten his Jill, And Johnny has got his Joan, To jig it, jig it, jig it, Jig it up and down. Strike up, says Wat, Agreed, says Kate, And I prithee, fiddler, play; Content, says Hodge, And so says Madge, For this is a holiday.
Page 147 - Round. Then every man began To foot it round about ; And every girl did jet it, Jet it, jet it, in and out. You're out, says Dick, 'Tis a lie, says Nick, The fiddler played it false; 'Tis true, says Hugh, And so says Sue, And so says nimble Alice.
Page 129 - A country life is sweet ! In moderate cold and heat, To walk in the air, how pleasant and fair, In every field of wheat, The fairest of flowers adorning the bowers, And every meadow's brow ; So that I say, no courtier may Compare with them who clothe in grey, And follow the useful plough.
Page 197 - For it's my delight, of a shiny night, In the season of the year.
Page 39 - WAS this small plant for thee cut down ? So was the plant of great renown, Which Mercy sends For nobler ends. Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

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