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GREEN GRASS |
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For we are lads a roving,
A roving through the land, We'll take this pretty fair maid
By her lily white hand.
Ye sail get a duke, my dear,
An ye sail get a drake, An ye sail get a bonny prince
For your ain dear sake.
And if they all should die,
Ye sail get anither; The bells will ring, the birds will sing,
And we'll clap our hands together.
—Biggar (W. Ballantyne).
IV. Dissy, dissy, green grass, Dissy, dissy, duss, Come all ye pretty fair maids And dance along with us.
You shall have a duck, my dear,
And you shall have a drake, And you shall have a nice young man
To love you for your sake.
If this young man should chance to die
And leave the girl a widow, The birds shall sing, the bells shall ring, Clap all your hands together.
—Yorkshire (Henderson's Folk-loi-e, Northern
Comities, p. 27).
V. Dossy, dossy green grass, Dossy, dossy, doss, Come all ye pretty fair maids And dance upon the grass.
I will give you pots and pans,
I will give you brass, I will give you anything
For a pretty lass. |
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