English Songs and Ballads | Page 8

twae,
When that
the lords o' Noroway
Began aloud to say--
'Ye Scotisman spend a' our king's gowd,
And a' our queenis fee.'

'Ye lee, ye lee, ye leears loud,
Sae loud 's I hear ye lee!'

'For I brought as much o' the white monie
As gane my men and me,

And a half-fou o' the gude red gowd,
Out owre the sea with me.
'Mak' ready, mak' ready, my merry men a',
Our gude ship sails the
morn.'
'O say na sae, my master dear,
I fear a deadlie storm.
'I saw the new moon late yestreen,
Wi' the auld moon in her arm;

And if we gang to sea, master,
I fear we'll come to harm!'
They hadna sail'd 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 tap-masts lap,
It was sic a deadlie storm;

And the waves cam' owre the broken ship,
Till a' her sides were torn.
'O whare will I get a gude sailor
Will tak' the helm in hand,
Till I
get up to the tall tap-mast,
To see if I can spy land.'
'O here am I, a sailor gude,
To tak' the helm in hand,
Till ye get up
to the tall tap-mast,
But I fear ye'll ne'er spy land.'
He hadna gane a step, a step,
A step but barely ane,
When a bout
flew out o' the gude ship's side,
And the saut sea it cam in.
'Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith,
Anither o' the twine,
And wap
them into our gude ship's side,
And letna the sea come in.'
They fetch'd a wab o' the silken claith,
Anither o' the twine,
And
they wapp'd them into the gude ship's side,
But aye the sea cam' in.
O laith, laith were our Scots lords' sons
To weet their coal-black
shoon,
But lang ere a' the play was play'd,
They wat their hats
abune.
And mony was the feather-bed
That fluttered on the faem,
And

mony was the gude lord's son
That never mair cam' hame.
O lang, lang may the ladies sit,
Wi' their fans into their hand,

Before they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come sailing to the strand.
And lang, lang may the maidens sit,
Wi' the gowd kaims in their hair,

A' waiting for their ain dear loves,
For them they'll see nae mair.
Half owre, half owre to Aberdour
'Tis fifty fathom deep,
And there
lies gude Sir Patrick Spens
Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.
THE BEGGAR'S DAUGHTER OF BEDNALL-GREEN
PART I
IT was a blind beggar, had long lost his sight,
He had a fair daughter
of beauty most bright;
And many a gallant brave suitor had she,
For
none was so comely as pretty Bessee.
And though she was of favour most faire,
Yet seeing she was but a
poor beggar's heyre,
Of ancyent housekeepers despised was she,

Whose sons came as suitors to pretty Bessee.
Wherefore in great sorrow fair Bessy did say,
Good father, and
mother, let me go away
To seek out my fortune, whatever it be,

This suite then they granted to pretty Bessee.
Then Bessy, that was of beauty so bright,
All cladd in grey russet,
and late in the night
From father and mother alone parted she;
Who
sighed and sobbed for pretty Bessee.
She went till she came to Stratford-le-Bow;
Then knew she not
whither, nor which way to go:
With tears she lamented her hard
destinie,
So sad and so heavy was pretty Bessee.
She kept on her journey until it was day,
And went unto Rumford

along the high way;
Where at the Queen's arms entertained was she:

So fair and well-favoured was pretty Bessee.
She had not been there a month to an end,
But master and mistress
and all was her friend:
And every brave gallant, that once did her see,

Was straightway enamour'd of pretty Bessee.
Great gifts they did send her of silver and gold,
And in their songs
daily her love was extolled;
Her beauty was blazed in every degree;

So fair and so comely was pretty Bessee.
The young men of Rumford in her had their joy
She showed herself
courteous and modestly coy
And at her commandment still would
they be;
So fair and so comely was pretty Bessee.
Four suitors at once unto her did go;
They craved her favour, but still
she said no;
I would not wish gentles to marry with me;
Yet ever
they honoured pretty Bessee.
The first of them was a gallant young knight,
And he came unto her
disguised in the night:
The second a gentleman of good degree,

Who wooed and sued for pretty Bessee.
A merchant of London, whose wealth was not small,
He was the third
suitor, and proper withal:
Her master's own son the fourth man must
be,
Who swore he would die for pretty Bessee.
And, if thou wilt marry with me, quoth the knight,
I'll make thee a
lady with joy and delight;
My heart's so enthralled by thy beautie,

That soon I shall die for pretty Bessee.
The gentleman said, Come, marry with me,
As fine as a lady my
Bessy shall be:
My life is distressed: O hear me, quoth he;
And