Scottish Historical and Romantic Ballads: Chiefly Ancient, Band 1

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J. Ballantyne & Company, 1808
 

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Seite 50 - Noroway, Tis we must fetch her hame.' They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may ; They hae landed in Noroway, Upon a Wodensday. They hadna been a week, a week, In Noroway, but twae, When that the lords o' Noroway Began aloud to say, — ' Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud, And a
Seite 50 - Our king has written a braid letter, And sealed it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand. "To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem ; The king's daughter of Noroway, Tis thou maun bring her hame...
Seite 51 - Wi' the auld moon in her arm; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm.' They hadna sailed a league, a league, A league but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly grew the sea. The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap, It was sic a deadly storm, And the waves came o'er the broken ship, Till a
Seite 52 - O where will I get a gude sailor, To take my helm in hand, Till I get up to the tall topmast, 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 topmast; But I fear you'll neer spy land.
Seite 114 - You dye for love of mee. Fayre ladye, it is for your love That all this dill I drye : For if you wold comfort me with a kisse, Then were I brought from bale to blisse, No lenger wold I lye. Sir knighte, my father is a kinge, I am his onlye heire ; Alas ! and well you knowe, syr knighte, I never can be youre fere. O ladye, thou art a kinges daughter, And I am not thy peere, But let me doe some deedes of armes To be your bacheleere.
Seite 113 - Fetche me downe my daughter deere, She is a leeche fulle fine : Goe take him doughe, and the baken bread, And serve him with the wyne soe red ; Lothe I were him to tine.
Seite 53 - The ladyes wrang their fingers white, The maidens tore their hair, A for the sake of their true loves, For them they'll see na mair. O lang, lang may the ladyes sit, Wi' their fans into their hand, Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the strand!
Seite 53 - He hadna gane a step, a step, A step but barely ane, When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, And the salt sea it came in. " Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith, " Another o' the twine, " And wap them into our ship's side,
Seite 64 - Rothiemay's chamber and wakened him to rise ; and as he is wakening him, the timber passage and lofting of the chamber hastily takes fire, so that none of them could win down stairs again ; so they turned to a window looking to the close, where they piteously cried many times. Help, help ! for God's cause!
Seite 49 - O whare will I get a skeely skipper, To sail this new ship of mine?' O up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the King's right knee, 'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor That ever sailed the sea.

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