A Collection of Ballads eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 192 pages of information about A Collection of Ballads.

He’s ben and ben,
and ben to his bed,
And with a sharp rapier
he stabbed him dead.

The lady came down the stair, wringing her hands:  “He has slain the Earl o Murray, the flower o Scotland.”

But Huntly lap on his horse, rade to the King:  “Ye’re welcome hame, Huntly, and whare hae ye been?

“Where hae ye been?
and how hae ye sped?”
“I’ve killed the Earl o Murray
dead in his bed.”

“Foul fa you, Huntly! and why did ye so?  You might have taen the Earl o Murray, and saved his life too.”

“Her bread it’s to bake,
her yill is to brew;
My sister’s a widow,
and sair do I rue.

“Her corn grows ripe,
her meadows grow green,
But in bonnie Dinnibristle
I darena be seen.”

Ballad:  Clerk Saunders

(Child, vol. iii.)

Clerk Saunders and may Margaret
Walked ower yon garden green;
And sad and heavy was the love
That fell thir twa between.

“A bed, a bed,” Clerk Saunders said,
“A bed for you and me!”
“Fye na, fye na,” said may Margaret,
“’Till anes we married be.

“For in may come my seven bauld brothers,
Wi’ torches burning bright;
They’ll say,—­’We hae but ae sister,
And behold she’s wi a knight!’”

“Then take the sword frae my scabbard,
And slowly lift the pin;
And you may swear, and save your aith. 
Ye never let Clerk Saunders in.

“And take a napkin in your hand,
And tie up baith your bonny e’en,
And you may swear, and save your aith,
Ye saw me na since late yestreen.”

It was about the midnight hour,
When they asleep were laid,
When in and came her seven brothers,
Wi’ torches burning red.

When in and came her seven brothers,
Wi’ torches burning bright: 
They said, “We hae but ae sister,
And behold her lying with a knight!”

Then out and spake the first o’ them,
“I bear the sword shall gar him die!”
And out and spake the second o’ them,
“His father has nae mair than he!”

And out and spake the third o’ them,
“I wot that they are lovers dear!”
And out and spake the fourth o’ them,
“They hae been in love this mony a year!”

Then out and spake the fifth o’ them,
“It were great sin true love to twain!”
And out and spake the sixth o’ them,
“It were shame to slay a sleeping man!”

Then up and gat the seventh o’ them,
And never a word spake he;
But he has striped his bright brown brand
Out through Clerk Saunders’ fair bodye.

Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turned
Into his arms as asleep she lay;
And sad and silent was the night
That was atween thir twae.

And they lay still and sleeped sound
Until the day began to daw;
And kindly to him she did say,
“It is time, true love, you were awa’.”

Project Gutenberg
A Collection of Ballads from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
Follow Us on Facebook