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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Then Hobbie Noble has dreamit a dream, In the Foulbogshiel where that he lay;
He thought his horse was aneath him shot, And he himself got hard away.
The cocks could craw, and the day could daw'. And I wat sae even down fell the rain;
Had Hobbie na waken'd at that time,
In the Foulbogshiel he'd been ta'en or slain,
' Get up, get up, my feiries five, For I wat here makes a fu' ill day;
And the warst clock of this companie I hope shall cross the Waste this day.
Now Hobbie thought the gates were clear,
But, ever alas ! it was not sae ; They were beset wi' cruel men and keen,
That away brave Noble could not gae.
' Yet follow me, my feiries five,
And see of me ye keep good array;
And the worst clock of this companie I hope shall cross the Waste this day.'
There was heaps of men now Hobbie before, And other heaps was him behin',
That had he been wight as Wallace was Away brave Noble he could not win.
clock] lame one, hobbler.
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