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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About the tenth hour of the night The lady's bow'r-door was broken ;
And ere the first hour of the night The bonny knave-bairn was gotten.
When days were gane, and months were run,
Rose the Red took travailing ; And sair she cried for a bow'r-woman,
Her pine to wait upon.
Then out it spake him Brown Robin:
' Now what needs a' this din ? For what cou'd any woman do
But I cou'd do the same ?'—
xxv ' It was never my mither's fashion,
Nor sail it e'er be mine, That belted Knights shou'd e'er stand by
Where ladies dreed their pine.
' But tak' ye up my bugle-horn,
And blaw three blasts for me ; I've a brither in the Kingis court
W:ll come me quickly tiV—
' O gin ye hae a bi ither on earth
That ye love better nor me, Ye blaw the horn yoursel',' he says,
' For ae blast I'll not gie.'
knave-bairn] man-child. pine] pain. dreed] endured. I225                                           K                                          257
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