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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But this ladye is gone to her chamber,
Her maydens following bright; And Sir Cawline's gone to the mores soe broad,
For to wake there all night.
Unto midnight that the moone did rise
He walked up and downe, And a lightsome bugle then heard he blow
Over the bents so browne ; Sayes he, ' And if cryance come to my heart,
I am farr from any good towne.'
And he spyed, e'en a little him by,
A furyous king and a fell, And a ladye bright his brydle led
[More] seemlye [than onie can tell].
Soe fast he call'd on Sir Cawline,
' O man, I rede thee flye ! For if cryance come untill thy heart
I'm afeard lest thou maun dye!'—
He sayes, c No cryance comes to my heart,
Nor i'faith I fear not thee; For because thou ming'd not Christ before,
The lesse me dreadeth thee.'
cryance] yielding, cowardice.           ming'd] mentioned, spoke
the name of.
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