The Ballad Book: A Selection of the Choicest British Ballads

Передня обкладинка
William Allingham
Sever and Francis, 1865 - 397 стор.
 

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Сторінка 143 - These pretty babes, with hand in hand, Went wandering up and down : But never more could see the man Approaching from the town...
Сторінка 63 - O where will I get a gude sailor, To take my helm in hand, Till I get up to the tall top-mast, To see if I can spy land?' 'O here am I, a sailor gude, To take the helm in hand, Till you go up to the tall top-mast; But I fear you'll ne'er spy land.
Сторінка 32 - There lived a wife at Usher's well, And a wealthy wife was she; She had three stout and stalwart sons, And sent them o'er the sea. They hadna...
Сторінка 276 - He has ta'en the watchman by the throat, He flung him down upon the lead — "Had there not been peace between our lands, Upon the other side thou hadst gaed ! "Now sound out, trumpets!" quo' Buccleuch; "Let's waken Lord Scroope right merrilie !" Then loud the warden's trumpet blew — 0 who dare meddle wi me?
Сторінка 282 - Now nay, now nay,' quoth Robin Hood, ' That boon I'll not grant thee ; I never ' hurt ' woman in all my life, Nor man in woman's company.
Сторінка 3 - And see not ye that bonny road That winds about the fernie Brae ? That is the road to fair Elfland, Where thou and I this night maun gae. But, Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue, Whatever ye may hear or see ; For if you speak word in Elflyn land Ye '11 ne'er get back to your ain countrie.
Сторінка 274 - Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen ? ' Quo' fause Sakelde ; ' come tell to me ! ' ' We go to hunt an English stag, Has trespass'd on the Scots countrie.
Сторінка 273 - And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie, Against the truce of Border tide? And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch Is Keeper here on the Scottish side?
Сторінка 140 - You must be father and mother both, And uncle all in one; God knows what will become of them, When I am dead and gone.
Сторінка 353 - O where hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son? O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?" "I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon. For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.

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