Old Ballads | Page 8

sleeping,
Oh, pray to them softly, my baby, with me, And say thou would'st
rather They watch'd o'er thy father! For I know that the angels are
whispering with thee. The dawn of the morning Saw Dermot returning,
And the wife wept with joy her babe's father to see, And closely
caressing Her child with a blessing, Said, "I knew that the angels were
whispering with thee."
Samuel Lover.

SIMON THE CELLARER.
Old Simon the Cellarer keeps a large store Of Malmsey and Malvoisie,
And Cyprus and who can say how many more? For a chary old soul is
he, A chary old soul is he; Of Sack and Canary he never doth fail, And
all the year round there is brewing of ale; Yet he never aileth, he
quaintly doth say, While he keeps to his sober six flagons a day: But ho!
ho! ho! his nose doth shew How oft the black Jack to his lips doth go;
But ho! ho! ho! his nose doth shew How oft the black Jack to his lips
doth go.
Dame Margery sits in her own still-room. And a Matron sage is she;
From thence oft at Curfew is wafted a fume, She says it is Rosemarie,
She says it is Rosemarie; But there's a small cupboard behind the back
stair, And the maids say they often see Margery there. Now, Margery
says that she grows very old And must take a something to keep out the
cold! But ho! ho! ho! old Simon doth know Where many a flask of his
best doth go; But ho! ho! ho! old Simon doth know Where many a flask
of his best doth go.
Old Simon reclines in his high-back'd chair, And talks about taking a
wife; And Margery often is heard to declare She ought to be settled in
life, She ought to be settled in life; But Margery has (so the maids say)
a tongue, And she's not very handsome, and not very young; So
somehow it ends with a shake of the head, And Simon he brews him a
tankard instead; While ho! ho! ho! he will chuckle and crow, What!
marry old Margery? no no, no! While ho! ho! ho! he will chuckle and
crow, What! marry old Margery? no, no, no!
_W. H. Bellamy_.

AULD ROBIN GRAY.
When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame, And a' the warld
to sleep are gane, The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my ee,
When my gudeman lies sound by me.
Young Jamie loo'd me wed, and socht me for his bride; But, saving a
croun, he had naething else beside. To mak that croun a pund young
Jamie gaed to sea, And the croun and the pund were baith for me.
He hadna been awa a week but only twa, When my mother she fell sick,
and the cow was stown awa; My father brak his arm, and young Jamie
at the sea, And auld Robin Gray cam' a-courtin' me.

My father couldna work and my mother couldna spin; I toiled day and
nicht, but their bread I couldna win; Auld Rob maintain'd them baith,
and, wi' tears in his ee, Said "Jennie, for their sakes, oh, marry me!"
My heart it said nay, for I look'd for Jamie back; But the wind it blew
high, and the ship it was a wreck; The ship it was a wreck--why didna
Jamie dee? Or why do I live to say, Wae's me?
My father argued sair, my mother didna speak, But she lookit in my
face till my heart was like to break; Sae they gied him my hand, though
my heart was in the sea; And auld Robin Gray was gudeman to me.
I hadna been a wife a week but only four, When, sitting sae mournfully
at the door, I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I couldna think it he, Till he
said, "I'm come back for to marry thee."
Oh, sair did we greet and muckle did we say, We took but ae kiss and
we tore ourselves away; I wish I were dead! but I'm no like to dee; And
why do I live to say, Wae's me?
I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin; I daurna think on Jamie, for
that wad be a sin. But I'll do my best a gude wife to be, For auld Robin
Gray is kind unto me.
_Lady Anne Lindsay._

BONNIE DUNDEE.
To the lords of Convention, 'twas Claverhouse spoke, Ere the king's
crown go down there are crowns to be broke; Then each cavalier who
loves honour and me, Let him follow the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee.
Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle my