Child's, The English And Scottish Ballads

Volume 7 of 8 from 1860 edition - online book

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" The lustfull sonnes of the proud emperesse               rs
Are doers of this hateful wickednesse."
1 tore the milk-white hairs from off mine head,
I curst the houre wherein I first was bred ;
I wisht this hand, that fought for countries fame,
In cradle rockt, had first been stroken lame.               «
The Moore, delighting still in villainy,
Did say, to sett my sonnes from prison free,
I should unto the king my right hand give,
And then my three imprisoned sonnea should live.
The Moore I caus'd to strike it off with speede, » Whereat I grieved not to see it bleed, But for my sonnes would willingly impart, And for their ransome send my bleeding heart.
But as my life did linger thus in paine, They sent to me my bootlesse hand againe,                 *>
And therewithal the heades of my three sonnes, Which filled my dying heart with fresher moanes.
Then past reliefe, I upp and downe did goe,
And with my teares writ in the dust my woe :
I shot my arrowes towards heaven hie,                         »
And for revenge to hell often did crye.
The empresse then, thinking that I was mad, Like Furies she and both her sonnes were clad, (She nam'd Revenge, and Rape and Murder they) To undermine and heare what I would say.                100

E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III