English Songs and Ballads | Page 2

stirrup, and Joris, and he
Is
there for honest poverty
I tell thee, Dick, where I have been
It is an
ancient Mariner
It is the miller's daughter
I travelled among
unknown men
It was a blind beggar had long lost his sight
It was a
friar of orders gray
It was a lover and his lass
It was a summer
evening
It was the frog in the well
It was the time when lilies blow

I've seen the smiling
I wander'd by the brook-side
John Anderson, my jo, John
John Gilpin was a citizen
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King
King Death was a rare old fellow
Lassie wi' the lint-white locks
Lawn as white as driven snow
Lay a
garland on my hearse
Let me the canakin clink, clink
Let the bells
ring, and let the boys sing
Lithe and listen, gentlemen
Long the
proud Spaniards had vaunted to conquer us
Lord, thou hast given me
a cell

Love wakes and weeps
Maxwelltown braes are bonnie
Men of England who inherit
Mine
be a cot beside the hill
Move eastward, happy earth, and leave
My
banks they are furnished with bees
My heart is sair, I darena tell
My
heart is wasted with my woe
My mind to me a kingdom is
O, Willie
brew'd a peck o' maut

Napoleon's banners at Boulogne
No stir in the air, no stir in the sea

Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note
Now glory to the Lord of
Hosts, from whom all glories are
Now, now the mirth comes
Now
ponder well, you parents dear
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the
white
Now the hungry lion roars
Of all the girls that are so smart
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw
Of
Nelson and the North
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray
Oft in the stilly
night
Oh, call my brother back to me
Oh, Mary, go and call the
cattle home
Oh! the days are gone when Beauty bright
Oh, the
sweet contentment
Oh where, and oh where, is your Highland laddie
gone
O Jenny's a' weet, poor body
O listen, listen, ladies gay
O
mistress mine, where are you roaming
O, my luve 's like a red red
rose
O Nanny, wilt thou go with me
On either side the river lie

On Linden when the sun was low,
On that deep-retiring shore
On
the banks of Allan Water
Orpheus with his lute made trees
O sing
unto my roundelay
O swallow, swallow, flying south
Our bugles
sang truce, for the night-cloud had lowered
Over hill, over dale
O
waly, waly up the bank
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms
O
whistle and I'll come to ye, my lad
O world! O life! O time!
O,
young Lochinvar is come out of the West
Pack clouds, away, and welcome, day
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu

Piping down the valleys wild
Proud Maisie in the wood
Queen and huntress, chaste and fair
Red rows the Nith 'tween bank and brae
Rich and rare were the gems
she wore

Rose cheek'd Laura, come
Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled
Shall I, wasting in despair
She
dwelt among untrodden ways
She is a winsome wee thing
She is far
from the land where her young hero sleeps
She stood breast high
among the corn
She walks in beauty like the night
Sigh no more,

ladies, sigh no more
Sing his praises, that doth keep
Some asked me
where the rubies grew
Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules

Some years of late, in eighty-eight
So now is come our joyfullest
part
So, we'll go no more a-roving
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the
year's pleasant king
Still to be neat, still to be drest
Sweet and low,
sweet and low
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright
Sweet Emma
Moreland of yonder town
Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind
Tell me, where is fancy bred
The
Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold
The boy stood on the
burning deck
The breaking waves dashed high
The bride cam' out o'
the byre
The deil cam' fiddlin' thro' the toun
The feathered songster
chanticleer
The fountains mingle with the river
The glories of our
blood and state
The harp that once through Tara's halls
The King
sits in Dunfermline town
The laird o' Cockpen, he's proud an' he 's
great
The lawns were dry in Euston park
The minstrel boy to the
war is gone
There be none of Beauty's daughters
There came to the
beach a poor exile of Erin,
There come seven gypsies on a day

There is a garden in her face
There is not in the wide world a valley
so sweet
There was a youth, a well beloved youth
There was three
kings into the East
There were three ladies play'd at the ba'
There
were three sailors of Bristol city
The splendour falls on castle walls

The stars are with the voyager
The stately homes of England
The
time I've lost in wooing
They grew in beauty side by side
Three
fishers went sailing out into the west

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

'Tis the last rose of summer
Toll for the brave
Turn, gentle hermit
of the dale
'Twas in the prime of summer time
Under the greenwood tree
Was this fair face the cause, quoth she
Wha 'll buy my caller herrin'

When all among the thundering drums
When all is done and said

When Britain first, at Heaven's command
When cats run home,