The Oxford Book of Ballads - online book

A Selection Of The Best English Lyric Ballads Chosen & Edited by Arthur Quiller-Couch

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LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET
XXIX
' O I did get my rose-water
Where ye will ne'er get nane, For I did get that very rose-water
Into my mither's wame.'
xxx
The bride she drew a long bodkin
Frae out her gay head-gear, And strake Fair Annet to the heart,
That word spak' never mair.
XXXI
  O Christ thee save! ' Lord Thomas he said,
' Methinks thou look'st wondrous wan ; Thou was used to look with as fresh a colour As ever the sun shined on.'
XXXII
' O art thou blind, Lord Thomas ?' she said,
k Or canst thou not very well see ? Or dost thou not see my own heart's blood Runs trickling down my knee I'
XXXIII
Lord Thomas he saw Fair Annet was pale,
And marvelled what mote be ; But when he saw her dear heart's blood,
All wood-wroth waxed he.
XXXIV
He drew his dagger frae his side,
That was so sharp and meet, And drave it into the nut-brown bride,
That fell dead at his feet.
wame] womb.          wood-wroth] mad with rage.
252
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