A Bundle of Ballads [17]
the hand that I wad take To twin me o' my warld's make!"--
"O, sister, reach me but your glove, And sweet William shall be your love!"--
"Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove, And sweet William shall be my love:
"Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair Garr'd me gang maiden evermair."
She clasped her hands about a broom root, But her cruel sister she loosed them out.
Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam, Until she came to the miller's dam.
The miller's daughter was baking bread, She went for water as she had need.
"O father, father, draw your dam! There's either a maid or a milk-white swan!"
The miller hasted and drew his dam, And there he found a drowned wom-an.
You couldna see her yellow hair For gowd and pearls that were sae rare;
You couldna see her middle sma', Her gowden girdle was sae bra'.
A famous harper passing by, The sweet pale face he chanced to spy;
And when he looked that ladye on, He sighed and made a heavy moan.
He made a harp of her breast-bone, Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone;
He's ta'en three locks of her yellow hair, And wi' them strung his harp sae fair.
He brought it to her father's hall, And there was the court assembled all.
He laid this harp upon a stone, And straight it began to play alone:
"Oh, yonder sits my father, the king, And yonder sits my mother, the queen,
And yonder stands my brother, Hugh, And yonder my William, sweet and true."
But the last tune that the harp played then Binnorie! O Binnorie! Was, "Wae to my sister, false Ellen, By the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie!"
KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR-MAID.
I read that once in Africa A princely wight did reign, Who had to name Cophetua, As poets they did feign: From nature's laws he did decline, For sure he was not of my mind, He car-ed not for women-kind, But did them all disdain. But mark what happened on a day: As he out of his window lay, He saw a beggar all in gray, The which did cause his pain.
The blinded boy, that shoots so trim, From heaven down did hie; He drew a dart and shot at him, In place where he did lie: Which soon did pierce him to the quick, And when he felt the arrow prick, Which in his tender heart did stick, He looked as he would die. "What sudden chance is this," quoth he, "That I to love must subject be, Which never thereto would agree, But still did it defy?"
Then from the window he did come, And laid him on his bed, A thousand heaps of care did run Within his troubled head: For now he means to crave her love, And now he seeks which way to prove How he his fancy might remove, And not this beggar wed. But Cupid had him so in snare, That this poor beggar must prepare A salve to cure him of his care, Or else he would be dead.
And, as he musing thus did lie, He thought for to devise How he might have her company, That so did 'maze his eyes. "In thee," quoth he, "doth rest my life; For surely thou shalt be my wife, Or else this hand with bloody knife The gods shall sure suffice!" Then from his bed he soon arose, And to his palace gate he goes; Full little then this beggar knows When she the king espies.
"The gods preserve your majesty!" The beggars all gan cry: "Vouchsafe to give your charity Our children's food to buy!" The king to them his purse did cast, And they to part it made great haste; This silly woman was the last That after them did hie. The king he called her back again, And unto her he gave his chain; And said, "With us thou shalt remain Till such time as we die:
"For thou," quoth he, "shalt be my wife, And honoured for my queen; With thee I mean to lead my life, As shortly shall he seen: Our wedding shall appointed be, And every thing in its degree; Come on," quoth he, "and follow me, Thou shalt go shift thee clean. What is thy name, fair maid?" quoth he. "Zenelophon, O king," quoth she: With that she made a low courts-ey, A trim one as I ween.
Thus hand in hand along they walk Unto the king's pal-ace: The king with courteous comely talk This beggar doth
"O, sister, reach me but your glove, And sweet William shall be your love!"--
"Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove, And sweet William shall be my love:
"Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair Garr'd me gang maiden evermair."
She clasped her hands about a broom root, But her cruel sister she loosed them out.
Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam, Until she came to the miller's dam.
The miller's daughter was baking bread, She went for water as she had need.
"O father, father, draw your dam! There's either a maid or a milk-white swan!"
The miller hasted and drew his dam, And there he found a drowned wom-an.
You couldna see her yellow hair For gowd and pearls that were sae rare;
You couldna see her middle sma', Her gowden girdle was sae bra'.
A famous harper passing by, The sweet pale face he chanced to spy;
And when he looked that ladye on, He sighed and made a heavy moan.
He made a harp of her breast-bone, Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone;
He's ta'en three locks of her yellow hair, And wi' them strung his harp sae fair.
He brought it to her father's hall, And there was the court assembled all.
He laid this harp upon a stone, And straight it began to play alone:
"Oh, yonder sits my father, the king, And yonder sits my mother, the queen,
And yonder stands my brother, Hugh, And yonder my William, sweet and true."
But the last tune that the harp played then Binnorie! O Binnorie! Was, "Wae to my sister, false Ellen, By the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie!"
KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR-MAID.
I read that once in Africa A princely wight did reign, Who had to name Cophetua, As poets they did feign: From nature's laws he did decline, For sure he was not of my mind, He car-ed not for women-kind, But did them all disdain. But mark what happened on a day: As he out of his window lay, He saw a beggar all in gray, The which did cause his pain.
The blinded boy, that shoots so trim, From heaven down did hie; He drew a dart and shot at him, In place where he did lie: Which soon did pierce him to the quick, And when he felt the arrow prick, Which in his tender heart did stick, He looked as he would die. "What sudden chance is this," quoth he, "That I to love must subject be, Which never thereto would agree, But still did it defy?"
Then from the window he did come, And laid him on his bed, A thousand heaps of care did run Within his troubled head: For now he means to crave her love, And now he seeks which way to prove How he his fancy might remove, And not this beggar wed. But Cupid had him so in snare, That this poor beggar must prepare A salve to cure him of his care, Or else he would be dead.
And, as he musing thus did lie, He thought for to devise How he might have her company, That so did 'maze his eyes. "In thee," quoth he, "doth rest my life; For surely thou shalt be my wife, Or else this hand with bloody knife The gods shall sure suffice!" Then from his bed he soon arose, And to his palace gate he goes; Full little then this beggar knows When she the king espies.
"The gods preserve your majesty!" The beggars all gan cry: "Vouchsafe to give your charity Our children's food to buy!" The king to them his purse did cast, And they to part it made great haste; This silly woman was the last That after them did hie. The king he called her back again, And unto her he gave his chain; And said, "With us thou shalt remain Till such time as we die:
"For thou," quoth he, "shalt be my wife, And honoured for my queen; With thee I mean to lead my life, As shortly shall he seen: Our wedding shall appointed be, And every thing in its degree; Come on," quoth he, "and follow me, Thou shalt go shift thee clean. What is thy name, fair maid?" quoth he. "Zenelophon, O king," quoth she: With that she made a low courts-ey, A trim one as I ween.
Thus hand in hand along they walk Unto the king's pal-ace: The king with courteous comely talk This beggar doth