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Read Ebook: English and Scottish Ballads Volume II by Child Francis James Editor
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Ebook has 1577 lines and 143040 words, and 32 pages
"The stockings they are Gib my man's, They came first to my hand; And this is Gib my man's shoon; At my bed feet they stand. I've reavell'd a' my yellow hair 85 Coming against the wind."
He's taen the harp intill his hand, He harpit and he sang, Until he cam to his master, As fast as he could gang. 90
"Won up, won up, my good master; I fear ye sleep o'er lang; There's nae a cock in a' the land But has wappit his wings and crawn."
Glenkindie's tane his harp in hand, 95 He harpit and he sang, And he has reach'd the lady's bower, Afore that e'er he blan.
When he cam to the lady's bower, He chappit at the chin; 100 "O, wha is that at my bower door, That opens na and comes in?" "It's I, Glenkindie, your ain true love, And in I canna win."
"Forbid it, forbid it," says that lady, 105 "That ever sic shame betide; That I should first be a wild loon's lass, And than a young knight's bride."
There was nae pity for that lady, For she lay cald and dead; 110 But a' was for him, Glenkindie, In bower he must go mad.
He'd harpit a fish out o' saut water; The water out o' a stane; The milk out o' a maiden's breast, 115 That bairn had never nane.
He's taen his harp intill his hand; Sae sweetly as it rang, And wae and weary was to hear Glenkindie's dowie sang. 120
But cald and dead was that lady, Nor heeds for a' his maen; An he wad harpit till domisday, She'll never speak again.
He's taen his harp intill his hand; 125 He harpit and he sang; And he is hame to Gib his man As fast as he could gang.
"Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man, Till I pay you your fee; 130 Come forth, come forth, now, Gib, my man; Weel payit sall ye be!"
And he has taen him, Gib, his man, And he has hang'd him hie; And he's hangit him o'er his ain yate, 135 As high as high could be.
"He harped the bark from every tree, And he harped the young from folk and from fee.
"He harped the hind from the wild-wood home, He harped the bairn from its mother's womb." ARWIDSSON, No. 149.
"Villemand takes his harp in his hand, He goes down by the water to stand.
"He struck the harp with his hand, And the fish leapt out upon the strand." GRUNDTVIG, No. 40.
"The king but and his nobles a' Sat birling at the wine, He would hae nane but his ae daughter To wait on them at dine.
"She served them but, she served them ben, Intill a gown o' green; But her e'e was ay on Brown Robin, That stood low under the rain," &c. J.
"O first he sang a merry song, And then he sang a grave; And then he pecked his feathers gray, To her the letter gave." J.
THE OLD BALLAD OF LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND THE LADY BARNARD.
Similar incidents, with a verbal coincidence in one stanza, occur in the ballad immediately succeeding the present.
Little Musgrave came to the church dore, 5 The preist was at private masse; But he had more minde of the faire women, Then he had of our ladys grace.
The one of them was clad in green, Another was clad in pall; 10 And then came in my lord Barnards wife, The fairest amonst them all.
She cast an eye on little Musgrave, As bright as the summer sun, And then bethought this little Musgrave, 15 "This ladys heart have I woonn."
Quoth she, "I have loved thee, little Musgrave, Full long and many a day:" "So have I loved you, fair lady, Yet never word durst I say." 20
"I have a bower at Buckelsfordbery, Full daintyly it is deight; If thou wilt wend thither, thou little Musgrave, Thou's lig in mine armes all night."
Quoth he, "I thank yee, faire lady, 25 This kindnes thou showest to me; But whether it be to my weal or woe, This night I will lig with thee."
"My lord Barnard shall knowe of this, Whether I sink or swimm:" And ever where the bridges were broake, 35 He laid him downe to swimme.
"Asleepe, awake! thou lord Barnard, As thou art a man of life; For little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordbery, Abed with thy own wedded wife." 40
"If this be true, thou little tinny page, This thing thou tellest to mee, Then all the land in Bucklesfordbery I freely will give to thee.
"But if it be a ly, thou little tinny page, 45 This thing thou tellest to me, On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordbery There hanged shalt thou be."
He called up his merry men all:-- "Come saddle me my steed; 50 This night must I to Buckellsfordbery, For I never had greater need."
And some of them whistl'd, and some of them sung, And some these words did say, Ever when my lord Barnards horn blew, 55 "Away, Musgrave, away!"
"Methinks I hear the thresel-cock, Methinks I hear the jaye; Methinks I hear my Lord Barnard,-- And I would I were away." 60
"Lye still, lye still, thou little Musgrave, And huggell me from the cold; Tis nothing but a shephards boy, A driving his sheep to the fold.
"Is not thy hawke upon a perch? 65 Thy steed eats oats and hay, And thou fair lady in thine armes,-- And wouldst thou bee away?"
With that my lord Barnard came to the dore, And lit a stone upon; 70 He plucked out three silver keys, And he open'd the dores each one.
He lifted up the coverlett, He lifted up the sheet; "How now, how now, thou little Musgrave, 75 Doest thou find my lady sweet?"
"I find her sweet," quoth little Musgrave, "The more 'tis to my paine; I would gladly give three hundred pounds That I were on yonder plaine." 80
"Arise, arise, thou littell Musgrave, And put thy cloth?s on; It shal ne'er be said in my country, I have killed a naked man.
"I have two swords in one scabberd, 85 Full deere they cost my purse; And thou shalt have the best of them, And I will have the worse."
The first stroke that little Musgrave stroke, He hurt Lord Barnard sore; 90 The next stroke that Lord Barnard stroke, Little Musgrave ne're struck more.
With that bespake this faire lady, In bed whereas she lay; "Although thou'rt dead, thou little Musgrave, 95 Yet I for thee will pray;
"And wish well to thy soule will I, So long as I have life; So will I not for thee, Barnard, Although I am thy wedded wife." 100
He cut her paps from off her brest, That some drops of this ladies heart's blood Ran trickling downe her knee.
"Woe worth you, woe worth , my mery men all, 105 You were ne're borne for my good; Why did you not offer to stay my hand, When ye saw me wax so wood!
"For I have slaine the bravest sir knight That ever rode on steed; 110 So have I done the fairest lady That ever did womans deed.
"A grave, a grave," Lord Barnard cryd, "To put these lovers in; But lay my lady on upper hand, 115 For she came of the better kin."
LORD RANDAL .
The lines supplied by Jamieson have been omitted.
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