Read Ebook: Old Ballads by Various

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Ebook has 243 lines and 14805 words, and 5 pages

COME, LASSES AND LADS COMIN' THRO' THE RYE CHERRY-RIPE ANNIE LAURIE ROBIN ADAIR MOLLY BAWN GO, HAPPY ROSE! THE ANCHOR'S WEIGH'D ALICE GRAY HOME, SWEET HOME JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO MY PRETTY JANE ROCK'D IN THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP THE MINSTREL BOY ON THE BANKS OF ALLAN WATER AULD LANG SYNE WITHIN A MILE OF EDINBURGH TOWN THE NIGHT-PIECE TO JULIA TOM BOWLING MY LOVE IS LIKE THE RED RED ROSE WIDOW MALONE THE JOLLY YOUNG WATERMAN CALLER HERRIN' A HUNTING WE WILL GO HEARTS OF OAK THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN THE BAY OF BISCAY O! BLACK-EYED SUSAN DUNCAN GRAY THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON THE MILLER OF DEE THE ANGEL'S WHISPER SIMON THE CELLARER AULD ROBIN GRAY BONNIE DUNDEE SALLY IN OUR ALLEY KITTY OF COLERAINE HERE'S TO THE MAIDEN OF BASHFUL FIFTEEN THE LEATHER BOTTEL WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE THE TOKEN O WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE LOVELY NAN THE LASS OF RICHMOND HILL TELL ME NOT, SWEET SHE WORE A WREATH OF ROSES O NANNY, WILT THOU GO WITH ME? D'YE KEN JOHN PEEL?

COME, LASSES AND LADS.

Come, lasses and lads, get leave of your dads, And away to the Maypole hie, For ev'ry fair has a sweetheart there, And the fiddler's standing by;

For Willy shall dance with Jane, And Johnny has got his Joan, To trip it, trip it, trip it, trip it, Trip it up and down!

"You're out," says Dick; "not I," says Nick, "'Twas the fiddler play'd it wrong;" "'Tis true," says Hugh, and so says Sue, And so says ev'ry one. The fiddler than began To play the tune again, And ev'ry girl did trip it, trip it, Trip it to the men!

Then, after an hour, they went to a bow'r, And play'd for ale and cakes; And kisses too,--until they were due, The lasses held the stakes. The girls did then begin To quarrel with the men, And bade them take their kisses back, And give them their own again!

"Good-night," says Harry; "good-night," says Mary; "Good-night," says Poll to John; "Good-night," says Sue to her sweetheart Hugh; "Good-night," says ev'ry one. Some walk'd and some did run, Some loiter'd on the way, And bound themselves by kisses twelve, To meet the next holiday.

COMING THRO' THE RYE.

Gin a body meet a body Comin' thro' the rye, Gin a body kiss a body, Need a body cry?

Ilka lassie has her laddie, Nane, they say, hae I, Yet a' the lads they smile at me When comin' thro' the rye.

Gin a body meet a body Comin' frae the town, Gin a body meet a body, Need a body frown? Ilka lassie has, etc.

Amang the train there is a swain I dearly lo'e mysel'; But what his name, or whaur his hame, I dinna care to tell. Ilka lassie has, etc.

CHERRY-RIPE.

Cherry-Ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones, come and buy; If so be you ask me where They do grow? I answer, There, Where my Julia's lips do smile, There's the land or cherry isle, Whose plantations fully show All the year, where cherries grow.

ANNIE LAURIE.

Maxwelton braes are bonnie, Where early fa's the dew; And it's there that Annie Laurie Gied me her promise true; Gied me her promise true, Which ne'er forgot will be; And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me doun and dee.

Her brow is like the snaw-drift, Her throat is like the swan, Her face it is the fairest That e'er the sun shone on; That e'er the sun shone on, And dark blue is her ee; And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me doun and dee.

Like dew on the gowan lying, Is the fa' o' her fairy feet; And like winds in summer sighing, Her voice is low and sweet; Her voice is low and sweet, And she's all the world to me; And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me doun and dee.

ROBIN ADAIR.

What's this dull town to me? Robin's not near. What was't I wish'd to see, What wish'd to hear? Where's all the joy and mirth Made this town a heav'n on earth? Oh, they're all fled with thee, Robin Adair.

What made th' assembly shine? Robin Adair. What made the ball so fine? Robin was there. What when the play was o'er, What made my heart so sore? Oh, it was parting with Robin Adair.

But now thou'rt cold to me, Robin Adair. But now thou'rt cold to me, Robin Adair. Yet he I lov'd so well Still in my heart shall dwell; Oh, I can ne'er forget Robin Adair.

MOLLY BAWN.

Oh, Molly Bawn, why leave me pining, All lonely, waiting here for you? While the stars above are brightly shining, Because they've nothing else to do. The flowers late were open keeping, To try a rival blush with you; But their mother, Nature, set them sleeping, With their rosy faces wash'd with dew. Oh, Molly Bawn, why leave me pining, All lonely, waiting here for you? Now the pretty flowers were made to bloom, dear, And the pretty stars were made to shine; And the pretty girls were made for the boys, dear, And may be you were made for mine: The wicked watch-dog here is snarling, He takes me for a thief, you see; For he knows I'd steal you, Molly, darling, And then transported I should be. Oh, Molly Bawn, why leave me pining, All lonely, waiting here for you?

GO, HAPPY ROSE!

Go, happy Rose! and interwove With other flowers, bind my love. Tell her, too, she must not be Longer flowing, longer free, That so oft has fetter'd me.

Say, it she's fretful, I have bands Of pearl and gold to bind her hands; Tell her, if she struggle still, I have myrtle rods at will, For to tame though not to kill.

THE ANCHOR'S WEIGH'D.

The tear fell gently from her eye, When last we parted on the shore; My bosom heav'd with many a sigh, To think I ne'er might see her more. "Dear youth," she cried, "and canst thou haste away? My heart will break; a little moment stay. Alas, I cannot, I cannot part from thee. The anchor's weigh'd, farewell! remember me."

"Weep not, my love," I trembling said, "Doubt not a constant heart like mine; I ne'er can meet another maid, Whose charms can fix that heart like thine!"

"Go, then," she cried, "but let thy constant mind Oft think of her you leave in tears behind." "Dear maid, this last embrace my pledge shall be! The anchor's weigh'd! farewell! remember me."

ALICE GRAY.

She's all my fancy painted her, She's lovely, she's divine; But her heart it is another's, She never can be mine; Yet lov'd I as man never lov'd, A love without decay, Oh! my heart, my heart is breaking For the love of Alice Gray!

Her dark brown hair is braided O'er a brow of spotless white; Her soft blue eye now languishes, Now flashes with delight; Her hair is braided not for me, The eye is turned away; Yet, my heart, my heart is breaking For the love of Alice Gray.

I've sunk beneath the summer's sun, And trembled in the blast; But my pilgrimage is nearly done, The weary conflict's past: And when the green sod wraps my grave, May pity haply say, Oh! his heart, his heart is broken For the love of Alice Gray.

HOME, SWEET HOME.

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home! A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, Which, seek thro' the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home! home! sweet, sweet home! There's no place like home! There's no place like home!

An exile from home splendour dazzles in vain, Oh I give me my lowly thatch'd cottage again! The birds singing gaily that came at my call, Give me them with the peace of mind dearer than all. Home! home! sweet, sweet home! There's no place like home! There's no place like home!

JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO.

John Anderson, my Jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snaw; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my Jo.

John Anderson, my Jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither; And monie a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither: Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson, my Jo.

MY PRETTY JANE.

My pretty Jane, my pretty Jane! Ah! never, never look so shy; But meet me in the evening, While the bloom is on the rye. The spring is waning fast, my love, The corn is in the ear, The summer nights are coming, love, The moon shines bright and clear. Then, pretty Jane, my dearest Jane! Ah! never look so shy, But meet me in the evening, While the bloom is on the rye. But name the day, the wedding day, And I will buy the ring; The lads and maids in favours white And village bells shall ring. The spring is waning fast, my love, The corn is in the ear, The summer nights are coming, love, The moon shines bright and clear. Then, pretty Jane, my dearest Jane! Ah! never look so shy, But meet me in the evening, While the bloom is on the rye.

ROCKED IN THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP.

Rock'd in the cradle of the deep, I lay me down in peace to sleep; Secure, I rest upon the wave, For Thou, O Lord, hast pow'r to save. I know Thou wilt not slight my call, For Thou dost note the sparrow's fall, And calm and peaceful is my sleep, Rock'd in the cradle of the deep.

And such the trust that still were mine, Tho' stormy winds swept o'er the brine; Or though the tempest's fiery breath Rous'd me from sleep to wreck and death! In ocean cave still safe with Thee, The germ of immortality; And calm and peaceful is my sleep, Rock'd in the cradle of the deep.

THE MINSTREL BOY.

ON THE BANKS OF ALLAN WATER.

On the banks of Allan Water, When the sweet Springtime did fall, Was the miller's lovely daughter, The fairest of them all. For his bride a soldier sought her, And a winning tongue had he: On the banks of Allan Water, None so gay as she.

On the banks of Allan Water, When brown Autumn spreads its store, Then I saw the miller's daughter, But she smiled no more; For the Summer grief had brought her, And the soldier false was he; On the banks of Allan Water, None so sad as she.

On the banks of Allan Water, When the Winter snow fell fast, Still was seen the miller's daughter, Chilling blew the blast. But the miller's lovely daughter, Both from cold and care was free: On the banks of Allan Water, There a corpse lay she.

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