A Collection of Old Ballads: Corrected from the Best and Most Ancient Copies Extant. With Introductions Historical, Critical, Or Humorous, Том 3

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J. Roberts; and sold, 1725
 

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Страница 219 - How could you say my face was fair, And yet that face forsake? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break?
Страница 259 - Wi' many good e'ens and days to me, Saying, Goodwife, for your courtesie, Will you lodge a silly poor man ? The night was cauld, the carle was wat, And down ayont the ingle he sat ; My daughter's shoulders he 'gan to clap, And cadgily ranted and sang. O wow ! quo...
Страница 219 - That face, alas! no more is fair; Those lips no longer red: Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death, And every charm is fled. The hungry worm my sister is; This winding-sheet I wear: And cold and weary lasts our night, Till that last morn appear.
Страница 218 - So shall the fairest face appear, When youth and years are flown: Such is the robe that kings must wear, When death has reft their crown.
Страница 260 - Syne to the servant's bed she gaes, To speer for the silly poor man. She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay, The strae was cauld, he was away, She clapt her hands, cry'd, "VValaday ! For some of our gear will be gane.
Страница 191 - We wanted no brawn nor souse. When this old cap was new. We took not such delight In cups of silver fine : None under the degree of a knight In plate drank beer or wine : Now each mechanical man Hath a cupboard of plate for a show ; Which was a rare thing then, When this old cap was new.
Страница 190 - A man might then behold At Christmas, in each hall Good fires to curb the cold, And meat for great and small. The neighbors were friendly bidden, And all had welcome true, The poor from the gates were not chidden, When this old cap was new.
Страница 60 - With hair hang'd down, she sadly hies, And of her gracious lord requires A boon, which hardly he denies. " The lives," (quoth she), " of all the blooms Yet budding green, these youths I crave ; O, let them not have timeless tombs, For nature longer limits gave!
Страница 260 - Fu' snug in a glen, where nane cou'd see, The twa, with kindly sport and glee, Cut frae a new cheese a whang : The priving was good, it pleas'd them baith, To lo'e her for ay, he gae her his aith. Quo' she, to leave thee I will be laith, My winsome Gaberlunzie-man. O kend my minny I were wi' you, Hl-fardly wad she crook her mou', Sic a poor man she'd never trow, After the Gaberlunzie-man.

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