POPULAR BRITISH BALLADS
ANCIENT AND MODERN
By Various
Chosen and edited by R. Brimley Johnson
Illustrated By W. C. Cooke
In Four Volumes
Volume II
1894
[Original]
![[Original]](#625240438173620599_0036.jpg.id-2367825957589789952.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
CONTENTS
[ FINE FLOWERS IN THE VALLEY ]
[ THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW ]
[ THE WEARY COBLE O' CARGILL ]
[ BLANCHEFLOUR AND JELLYFLORICE ]
[ THE EARL OF MAR'S DAUGHTER ]
[ SIR ARTHUR AND CHARMING MOLLEE ]
[ THE TREES THEY ARE SO HIGH ]
[ THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON ]
[ THE KING AND THE COUNTRYMAN ]
[ CAPTAIN WARD AND THE RAINBOW ]
[ THE YORKSHIRE HORSE-DEALER ]
[ THE GAY LADY THAT WENT TO CHURCH ]
THOMAS THE RHYMER
True Thomas lay o'er yon grassy bank;
And he beheld a lady gay;
A lady that was brisk and bold,
Come riding o'er the ferny brae.
Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o' the velvet fine;
At ilka tett of her horse's mane,
Hung fifty silver bells and nine.
True Thomas, he took off his hat,
And bowed him low down till his knee:
"All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven!
For your peer on earth I never did see."
"O no, O no, True Thomas," she says,
"That name does not belong to me;
I am but the Queen of fair Elfland,
And I am come here for to visit thee.
(tett, tuft.)
"Harp and carp, Thomas," she said;
"Harp and carp along wi' me;
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your body I will be."—
![[Original]](#625240438173620599_0037.jpg.id-6228006086113713216.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
"Betide me weal, betide me woe,
That weird shall never daunton me."
Syne he has kissed her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.
"But ye maun go wi' me, now, Thomas;
True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me;
For ye maun serve me seven years,
Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be,"
(Harp and carp, chat.)
She turned about her milk-white steed;
And took true Thomas up behind:
And aye, whene'er her bridle rang,
The steed flew swifter than the wind.
For forty days and forty nights
He wade thro' red blude to the knee,
And he saw neither sun nor moon,
But heard the roaring of the sea.
[Original]
![[Original]](#625240438173620599_0038.jpg.id-1724636425366137553.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
O they rade on, and farther on;
Until they came to a garden green,
"Light down, light down, ye lady free,
Some of that fruit let me pull to thee."
"O no, O no, True Thomas." she says;
"That fruit maun not be touched by thee,
For a' the plagues that are in hell
Light on the fruit of this country.
"But I have a loaf here in my lap,
Likewise a bottle of claret wine,
And now ere we go farther on,
We'll rest a while and ye may dine."
When he had eaten and drunk his fill—
"Lay down your head upon my knee,"
The lady said, "ere we climb yon hill,
And I will shew you ferlies three.
"O see not ye yon narrow road,
So thick beset with thorns and briars?
That is the path of righteousness,
Though after it but few enquires.
"And see ye not that braid braid road,
That lies across that lily leven?
That is the path of wickedness,
Though some call it the road to heaven.
"And see not ye that bonny road,
That winds about the ferny brae?
That is the road to fair Elfiand,
Where you and I this night maun gae.
"But, Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue,
Whatever ye may hear or see;
For, gin ae word you should chance to speak,
Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain country."
(ferlies, marvels. leven, lawn.)
He has gotten a coat of the even cloth,
And a pair of shoes of velvet green;
And till seven years were gane and past,
True Thomas on earth was never seen.
THE BONNY HIND
O may she comes, and may she goes,
Down by yon gardens green,
And there she spied a gallant squire
As squire had ever been.
And may she comes, and may she goes,
Down by yon hollin tree,
And there she spied a brisk young squire,
And a brisk young squire was he.
"Give me your green mantle, fair maid,
Give me your maidenhead;
Gif ye winna gie me your green mantle,
Give me your maidenhead!
He has ta'en her by the milk-white hand,
And softly laid her down,
And when he's lifted her up again
Given her a silver kaim.
(even, fine.)
"Perhaps there may be bairns, kind sir,
Perhaps there may be nane;
But if you be a courtier,
You'll tell to me your name."
"I am nae courtier, fair maid,
But new come frae the sea;
I am nae courtier, fair maid,
But when I courteth thee.
"They call me Jack when I'm abroad,
Sometimes they call me John;
But when I'm in my father's bower
Jock Randal is my name."
"Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny lad;
Sae loud's I hear ye lee!
For I'm Lord Randal's yae daughter,
He has nae mair nor me."
"Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonny may,
Sae loud's I hear ye lee!
For I'm Lord Randal's yae yae son,
Just now come o'er the sea."
She's putten her hand down by her spare,
And out she's ta en a knife,
And she has put'nt in her heart's bluid,
And ta'en away her life.
(spare, pocket.)
And hes ta en up his bonny sister,
With the big tear in his een,
And he has buried his bonny sister
Among the hollins green.
And syne hes hied him o'er the dale,
His father dear to see:
"Sing O and O for my bonny hind,
Beneath yon hollin tree!"
"What needs you care for your bonny hind?
For it you needna care;
There's aught score hinds in yonder park,
And five score hinds to spare.
"Four score of them are siller-shod,
Of those ye may get three;"
"But O and O for my bonny hind,
Beneath yon hollin tree!"
"What needs you care for your bonny hind?
For it you needna care;
Take you the best, give me the worst,
Since plenty is to spare."
"I carena for your hinds, my Lord,
I carena for your fee;
But O and O for my bonny hind,
Beneath the hollin tree!"
(aught, eight.)
"O were ye at your sisters bower,
Your sister fair to see,
Ye'll think na mair o' your bonny hind,
Beneath the hollin tree."
KING HENRY
[Original]
![[Original]](#625240438173620599_0043.jpg.id-3896642423675113409.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
Lat never a man a wooing wend,
That lacketh thingés three;
A routh o' gold, an open heart,
And fu' o' courtesy.
As this was seen o' King Henry,
For he lay burd-alane;
And he has ta'en him to a haunted hunt's ha',
Was seven miles frae a town.
(routh, plenty. burd-alane, alone, without a burd or maiden.)
hunt's ha', hunting-lodge.
He's chas'd the dun deer thro' the wood,
And the roe down by the den,
Till the fattest buck in a' the herd
King Henry he has slain.
He's ta'en him to his hunting ha',
For to make bierly cheer;
When loud the wind was heard to sound,
And an earthquake rocked the floor.
And darkness covered a' the hall
Where they sat at their meat;
The gray dogs, youling, left their food
And crept to Henry's feet.
And louder howled the rising wind,
And burst the fastened door;
And in there came a grisly ghost,
Stood stamping on the floor.
Her head hit the roof-tree o' the house,
Her middle ye mot weel span;—
Each frightened huntsman fled the ha';
And left the king alone."
Her teeth was a' like tether stakes,
Her nose like club or mell;
And I ken naething she 'pear'd to be,
But the fiend that wons in hell.
(bierly, proper. mell, mallet. wons, dwells.)
"Some meat, some meat, ye King Henry;
Some meat ye gie to me."
"And what meats in this house, Lady?
That ye're nae welcome tae?"
"O ye's gae kill your berry-brown steed,
And serve him up to me."
O when he slew his berry-brown steed,
Wow but his heart was sair!
She ate him a' up, skin and bane,
Left naething but hide and hair.
"Mair meat, mair meat, ye King Henry,