The Pictorial Balladist: A Collection of Ballads, of Various Ages and Countries: with Introductory Notices, Glossary, and Notes; and the Music of the Tunes to which the Ballads Were Sung, Volume 1

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Joseph S. Moore
J.C. Moore, 1846
 

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Page 25 - Now hail, now hail, thou lady bright !" " Now hail thou Baron true ! What news, what news, from Ancram fight ? What news from the bold Buccleuch ?" " The Ancram Moor is red with gore, For many a Southron fell ; And Buccleuch has charged us, evermore To watch our beacons well.
Page 21 - gainst the English yew To lift the Scottish spear. Yet his plate-jack* was braced, and his helmet was laced, And his vaunt-brace of proof he wore ; At his saddle-gerthe was a good steel sperthe, Full ten pound weight and more. The Baron return'd in three days...
Page 209 - The Evergreen. Being a Collection of Scots Poems, Wrote by the Ingenious before 1600.
Page 249 - In somer, when the shawes be sheyne, And leves be large and long, Hit is full mery in feyre foreste To here the foulys song: To se the dere draw to the dale, And leve the hilles hee, And shadow hem in the leves grene, Under the grene-wode tre. Hit befel on Whitsontide, Erly in a May mornyng, The son up feyre can shyne, And the briddis mery can syng. "This is a mery mornyng...
Page 22 - He spurred his courser on, Without stop or stay, down the rocky way, That leads to Brotherstone. He went not with the bold Buccleuch His banner broad to rear; He went not 'gainst the English yew To lift the Scottish spear. Yet his...
Page 268 - Halloo ! halloo ! away they goe, Unheeding wet or drye ; And horse and rider snort and blowe, And sparkling pebbles flye.
Page 265 - O mother, what I feel within, No sacrament can staye; No sacrament can teche the dead To bear the sight of daye.' ' May be, among the heathen folk Thy William false doth prove, And puts away his faith and troth, And takes another love. ' Then wherefore sorrow for his loss? Thy moans are all in vain : And when his soul and body parte, His falsehode brings him paine.
Page 398 - Then up arose her seven brethren, And hew'd to her a bier; They hew'd it frae the solid aik, Laid it o'er wi
Page 237 - SOME offered for his hundred crownes Five hundred for to pay ; And some a thousand, two or three, Yet still he did denay. And at the last ten thousand crownes They offered, him to save. Gemutus sayd, I will no gold : My forfeite I will have. A pound of fleshe is my demand, And that shall be my hire.
Page 307 - The spear against the gyant glanc'd, And caus'd the blood to burst. Mad and outrageous with the pain, He whirl'd his mace of steel : The very wind of such a blow Had made the champion reel. It haply mist ; and now the knight His glittering sword display'd, And riding round with whirlwind speed Oft made him feel the blade.

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