The English and Scottish Popular Ballads

1 - Riddles Wisely Expounded **a.** 'A Noble Riddle Wisely Expounded; or, The Maid's Answer to the Knight's Three Questions,' 4to, Rawlinson, 566, fol. 193, Bodleian Library; Wood, E. 25, fol. 15, Bod.

A MY plaid awa, my plaid awa, And ore the hill and far awa, And far awa to Norrowa, My plaid shall not be blown awa. The elphin knight sits on yon hill, Ba, ba, ba, lilli ba He blaws his horn both lowd and shril. The wind hath blown my plaid awa He blowes it east, he blowes it west, He blowes it whe

A "O WHARE are ye gaun?" Refrain: Quo the fause knicht upon the road: "I'm gaun to the scule," Refrain: Quo the wee boy, and still he stude. "What is that upon your back?" Refrain: quo etc. "Atweel it is my bukes," Refrain: quo etc. "What's that ye've got in your arm?" "Atweel it is my peit." "Wha's

If ye canna gang, I will cause you to ride." He leapt on a horse, and she on another, And they rode on to the greenwood together. "Light down, light down, lady Isabel," said he, We are come to the place where ye are to die. "Hae mercy, hae mercy, kind sir, on me, Till ance my dear father and mother

A GIL BRENTON has sent oer the fame, He's woo'd a wife an brought her hame. Full sevenscore o ships came her wi, The lady by the greenwood tree. There was twal an twal wi beer an wine, An twal an twal wi muskadine: An twall an twall wi bouted flowr, An twall an twall wi paramour: An twall an twall w

And to his mother he has gone, That vile rank witch of vilest kind. He says: ‘My ladie has a cup, Wi gowd and silver set about. ‘This goodlie gift shall be your ain, And let her be lighter o her young bairn.’ ‘Of her young bairn she’ll neer be lighter, Nor in her bower to shine the brighter. ‘But sh

Until they met with old Carl Hood; He comes for ill, but never for good. ‘Earl Bran, if ye love me, Seize this old carl, and gar him die.’ ‘O lady fair, it wad be sair, To slay an old man that has grey hair. ‘O lady fair, I’ll no do sae; I’ll gie him a pound, and let him gae.’ ‘O where hae ye ridden

He took her sisters by the hand, He kissd them baith, an sent them hame, An he’s taen his true love him behind, And through the green-wood they are gane. They hadna ridden in the bonnie green-wood Na not a mile but barely ane, When there came fifteen o the boldest knights That ever bare flesh, blood

And loud to her this knight did crie, The salt teares standing in his eye, Refrain: And she the faire flower of Northumberland. ‘Faire lady,’ he said, ’Take pity on me, And let me not in prison dye, Refrain: And you the faire flower of Northumberland.’ ‘Faire Sir, how should I take pity on thee, Tho

What did he doe with her brest-bone? He made him a violl to play thereupon. What did he doe with her fingers so small? He made him peggs to his violl withall.

The ladie turned her head aside, The knight he woo’d her to be his bride. The ladie blushd a rosy red, And sayd, ‘Sir knight, I’m too young to wed.’ ‘O ladie fair, give me your hand, And I’ll make you ladie of a’ my land.’ ‘Sir knight, ere ye my favor win, You maun get consent frae a’ my kin.’ He’s

A "O WHERE ha you been, Lord Randal, my son? And where ha you been, my handsome young man?" "I ha been at the greenwood; mother, mak my bed soon, For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down." "An what met ye there, Lord Randal, my son? An wha met you there, my handsome young man?" "O I met wi

And the truth come tell to me.’ ‘I’ll set my foot in a bottomless ship, Mother lady, mother lady: I’ll set my foot in a bottomless ship, And ye’ll never see mair o me.’ ‘What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife, Son Davie, son Davie?’ ‘Grief and sorrow all her life, And she’ll never see mair o me.’ ‘Wh

A THERE were three ladies lived in a bower, Refrain: Eh vow bonnie And they went out to pull a flower. Refrain: On the bonnie banks o Fordie They hadna pu'ed a flower but ane, When up started to them a banisht man. He's taen the first sister by her hand, And he's turned her round and made her stand.

But when nine months were come and gane, This ladye’s face turnd pale and wane. To Leesome Brand she then did say, ‘In this place I can nae mair stay. ‘Ye do you to my father’s stable, Where steeds do stand baith wight and able. ‘Strike ane o them upo the back, The swiftest will gie his head a wap.

16 - Sheath and Knife **a.** Motherwell's MS., p. 286. **b.** 'The broom blooms bonnie and says it is fair,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 189.

A IN Scotland there was a babie born, Refrain:Lill lal, etc. And his name it was called young Hind Horn. Refrain:With a fal lal, etc. He sent a letter to our king That he was in love with his daughter Jean.

A SIR EGRABELL had sonnes three, Refrain:Blow thy horne, good hunter Sir Lyonell was one of these. Refrain:As I am a gentle hunter Sir Lyonell wold on hunting ryde, Untill the forrest him beside. And as he rode thorrow the wood, Where trees and harts and all were good, And as he rode over the plaine

DER lived a king inta da aste, Refrain:Scowan ürla grün Der lived a lady in da wast. Refrain:Whar giorten han grün oarlac Dis king he has a huntin gaen, He's left his Lady Isabel alane. "Oh I wis ye'd never gaen away, For at your hame is d'ol an wae. "For da king o Ferrie we his daert, Has pierced y

A - * * * AND there she's leand her back to a thorn, Refrain:Oh and alelladay, oh and alelladay And there she has her baby born. Refrain:Ten thousand times good night and be wi thee She has houked a grave ayont the sun, And there she has buried the sweet babe in. And she's gane back to her father's

Refrain: Grandam boy, grandam boy, heye! Leg a derry, leg a merry, mett, mer, whoope, whir! Driuance, larumben, grandam boy, heye! While shee washte and while shee ronge, While shee hangd o the hazle wand.

quat is the befalle? Lakkyt the eyther mete or drynk in kyng Herowdes halle!’ kit me neyther mete ne drynk in kyng Herowdes halle; RRther is a chyld in Bedlem born is beter than we alle.’ Quat eylyt the, Steuyn? art thu wod, or thu gynnyst to brede? Lakkyt the eyther gold or fe, or ony ryche wede?’

HIT wes upon a Scere-thorsday that ure loverd aros; Ful milde were the wordes he spec to Judas. ‘Judas, thou most to Jurselem, oure mete for to bugge; Thritti platen of selver thou bere up othi rugge. ‘Thou comest fer ithe brode stret, fer ithe brode strete; Summe of thine tunesmen ther thou meiht i

‘Ye’ll steal your father’s gowd, and your mother’s money, And I’ll mak ye a lady in Ireland bonnie.’ She’s stown her father’s gowd, and her mother’s money, But she was never a lady in Ireland bonnie. * * * * * ‘There’s fey fowk in our ship, she winna sail for me, There’s fey fowk in our ship, she wi