What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
arms arrow blood bonny bower bride bring brother brown castle Childe daughter dead dear Douglas fair father fell fight frae gane gang give gold gone gowd green gude hair hame hand He's head heart Hunting I'll John King knee lady ladye laid land leave light lived look Lord mair merry mind mither nane ne'er never night noble o'er owre Percy pretty Bessee rade ride ring Robin Robin Hood round sall says seven side sister soon spake stand steed sweet ta’en tell thee Thomas thou Till took town tree true turn unto weel wife Willie wind wine woman wood ye maun young
Page 315 - O that I were where Helen lies! Night and day on me she cries; Out of my bed she bids me rise, Says "Haste and come to me!
Page 165 - I counsel you, Remember how It is no maiden's law Nothing to doubt, but to run out To wood with an outlaw. For ye must there in your hand bear A bow ready to draw ; And as a thief thus must you live Ever in dread and awe ; Whereby to you great harm might grow : Yet had I liever than That I had to the green- wood go, Alone, a banished man.
Page 314 - Curst be the heart that thought the thought, And curst the hand that fired the shot, When in my arms Burd Helen dropt, And died to succour me ! 0 think na ye my heart was sair, When my love dropt down and spak' nae mair ! There did she swoon wi' meikle care, On fair Kirconnell lea.
Page 177 - Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor That ever sailed the sea.' Our King has written a braid letter, And seal'd it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand. To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem; The King's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis thou maun bring her hame.
Page 157 - O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?" "I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon. For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down." "Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randal, my son? Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?
Page 315 - Curst be the heart that thought the thought. And curst the hand that fired the shot. When in my arms burd ' Helen dropt. And died to succour me ! O think na ye my heart was sair, When my love dropt down and spak...
Page 177 - O wha is this has done this deed, And tauld the king o' me, To send us out, at this time of the year, To sail upon the sea?
Page 176 - 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.