Child's, The English And Scottish Ballads

Volume 3 of 8 from 1860 edition -online book

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Then were I brought from bale to blisse, « No lenger wold I lye."
" Sir knighte, my father is a kinge,
I am his onlye heire; Alas ! and well you knowe, syr knighte,
I never can be youre fere."                             so
" O ladye, thou art a kinges daughter,
And I am not thy peere ; But let me doe some deedes of armes,
To be your bacheleere."
" Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe, m
My bacheleere to bee, (But ever and aye my heart wold rue,
Giff harm shold happe to thee,)
" Upon Eldridge hill there groweth a thorne, Upon the mores brodinge ;                              so
And dare ye, syr knighte, wake there all nighte, Untile the fayre morninge ?
" For the Eldridge knighte, so mickle of mighte,
Will examine you beforne ; And never man bare life awaye,                        ss
But he did him scath and scorne.
"That knighte he is a foul paynim, And large of limb and bone;