Old Ballads, from Early Printed Copies of the Utmost Rarity: Now for the First Time Collected

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John Payne Collier
Percy Society, 1840 - 131 pagine
 

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Pagina 39 - Next Sunday without fail, With my sweet Sarah once again To tell some pleasant tale. When she heard me say so, The tears fell from her eye ; O George, quoth she, if thou dost fail. Thy Sarah sure will dye.
Pagina 117 - IT was a' for our .rightfu' King, We left fair Scotland's strand; It was a' for our rightfu' King, We e'er saw Irish land, My dear, — We e'er saw Irish land.
Pagina 45 - Was I a man, ere I Would live in poor estate; On father, friends, and all my kin, I would my talons grate. For without money, George, A man is but a beast: But bringing money, thou shalt be Always my welcome guest.
Pagina 118 - The sodger from the wars returns, The sailor frae the main ; But I hae parted frae my love, Never to meet again, My dear ; Never to meet again. W'hen day is gane, and night is come, And a...
Pagina 24 - Which had not eat in ten days space not one small bit of meat. But God that knows all secrets, the matter so contriv'd, That by this young man's valour they were of life depriv'd; For being faint for food, they scarcely could withstand The noble force, and fortitude, and courage of his hand...
Pagina 42 - Why, dear, thou know'st, I said, How all which I could get, I gave it, and did spend it all Upon thee every whit.
Pagina 33 - ALL youths of fair England That dwell both far and near, Regard my story that I tell, And to my song give ear. A London lad I was, A merchant's prentice bound ; My name George Barnwell ; that did spend My master many a pound. Take heed of harlots then, And their enticing trains ; For by that means I have been brought To hang alive in chains.
Pagina 21 - A prentice' gallant mind. He was born [and bred] in Cheshire, The chief of men was he ; From thence brought up to London, A prentice for to be. % A merchant on the bridge Did like his service so, That, for three years, his factor To Turkey he should go.
Pagina 37 - Which she to stay her trickling tears Before her eyes did hold. This thing unto my sight Was wondrous rare and strange ; And in my...

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