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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Out then spak' an auld grey knight
'Lay owre the Castle wa', And says, ' Alas, fair Janet!
For thee we'll be blamed aV
' Hauld your tongue, ye auld-faced knight,
Some ill death may ye die ! Father my bairn on whom I will,
I'll father nane on thee.
' O if my love were an earthly knight,
As he is an elfin gay, I wadna gie my ain true-love
For nae laird that ye hae.
' The steed that my true-love rides on
Is fleeter nor the wind ; Wi' siller he is shod before,
Wf burning gold behind.'
Out then spak' her brither dear—
He meant to do her harm: ' There grows an herb in Carterhaugh
Will twine you an' the bairn.'
Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little abune her knee, And she has snooded her yellow hair
A little abune her bree, A nd she's awa' to Carterhaugh
As fast as she can hie.
twine] part, sunder.
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