English and Scottish ballads, Volume 2

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Francis James Child
Houghton, Osgood, 1857 - Ballads, English
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Page 61 - THE TWA CORBIES As I was walking all alane I heard twa corbies making a mane ; The tane unto the t'other say, ' Where sail we gang and dine today?' ' — 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 lady fair. ' His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, His lady's ta'en another mate, So we may mak our dinner sweet. ' Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, And I'll pick out his bonnie...
Page 153 - And tauld the king o' me, To send us out, at this time of the year, To sail upon the sea? "Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, Our ship must sail the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'T is we must fetch her hame.
Page 192 - How shall I know your true love, That have met many one, As I went to the holy land, That have come, that have gone?
Page 129 - And both possessed one grave. No love between these two was lost, Each was to other kind ; In love...
Page 150 - Late late yestreen I saw the new moone, Wi the auld moone in hir arme, And I feir, I feir, my deir master, That we will cum to harme.' O our Scots nobles wer richt laith To weet their cork-heild schoone ; Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd, Thair hats they swam aboone.
Page 44 - And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk Right weel to breast a steed ; And I sail learn your turtle dow As weel to write and read. " And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk To wield both bow and brand ; And I sail learn your turtle dow To lay gowd wi
Page 154 - Our gude ship sails the morn.' 'Now, ever alack, my master dear, I fear a deadly storm! 'I saw the new moon, late yestreen, Wi' the auld moon in her arm; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm!
Page 152 - O whare will I get a skeely skipper, To sail this new ship of mine ? " — O up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the King's right knee, — " Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor That ever sailed the sea.
Page 203 - Spaniards fraught with jealousy we often find, But Englishmen through all the world are counted kind. "Leave me not unto a Spaniard, You alone enjoy my heart ; I am lovely, young, and tender, Love is likewise my desert : Still to serve thee day and night my mind is prest, The wife of every Englishman is counted blest.
Page 131 - The parents being dead and gone, The children home he takes, And brings them straight unto his house, Where much of them he makes. He had not kept these pretty babes A twelvemonth and a day, But, for their wealth, he did devise To make them both away.

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