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Ancient arms auld Ballads Balow beggar birk bride brown brume blooms bonnie called child comely copy countrie court daughter dear Earl English fair father fell Flower Follow frae gang gave give gold gowd green hame hand heard heart hey lillelu horse I'll Johnie king knee knight laddie lady Laird land leave letter look Lord maid mair marry master mother never noble Northumberland play Pots pray pretty Bessee printed prison prove quoth ride ring rode Scotland Scottish sent Sing Songs soon steed strand sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought till took town true love turn unto wedding weel Whan wife willow woman Ye'll yetts young
Page 134 - Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my Love's heart grown cauld to me. When we came in by Glasgow town We were a comely sight to see; My Love was clad in the black velvet, And I mysell in cramasie.
Page 136 - Love wont to gae! 1 leant my back unto an aik, I thought it was a trusty tree; But first it bow'd, and syne it brak, Sae my true Love did lichtly me. O waly waly, but love be bonny A little time while it is new; But when 'tis auld, it waxeth cauld And fades awa...
Page 133 - Or wherefore should I kame my hair ? For my true love has me forsook, And says he'll never love me mair.
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 31 - O come ye here to fight, young lord, Or come ye here to play? "Or come ye here to drink good wine Upon the wedding day?" "I come na here to fight," he said, I come na here to play; I'll but lead a dance wi 1 the bonnie bride, And mount and go my way.
Page 29 - THERE was a may, and a weel-far'd may, Lived high up in yon glen : Her name was Katharine Janfarie, She was courted by mony men. Up then came Lord Lauderdale, Up frae the Lawland Border ; And he has come to court this may, A
Page 134 - Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, And shake the green leaves off the tree? O gentle death, when wilt thou come ? For of my life I am weary.
Page 176 - But tell me first what thou canst do ; Thou shalt be fitted thereunto. " Wilt thou be usher of my hall, To wait upon my nobles all ? Or wilt thou be taster of my wine, To wait on me when I do dine ? u Or wilt thou be my chamberlain, To make my bed both soft and fine ? Or wilt thou be one of my guard ? And I will give thee thy reward.