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ancient appears arms army ballad battle bonny brought called castle chamber daughter dear death doubt downe Earl edition Eldridge event evidence faes fair fayre fell fire frae fragments French Frendraught give gone Gordon gude hand Hardyknute heart hill horse Huntley James John king knighte known lady ladye laird land late lord mair manner Marie Marquis master mentioned micht mony morn Murray never Norway Norwegians NOTES original owre perhaps poem present preserved probably refers remain rest richt romance round sail says Scotch Scotland Scots Scott Scottish seems sent servants ships slain songs stand stanzas story supposes sword Syr Cauline taken thair thee Thomas thou throw took tradition true Wallace zour
Page 50 - Noroway, Tis we must fetch her hame.' They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may ; They hae landed in Noroway, Upon a Wodensday. They hadna been a week, a week, In Noroway, but twae, When that the lords o' Noroway Began aloud to say, — ' Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud, And a
Page 51 - Wi' the auld moon in her arm; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm.' They hadna sailed a league, a league, A league but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly grew the sea. The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap, It was sic a deadly storm, And the waves came o'er the broken ship, Till a
Page 52 - O where will I get a gude sailor, To take my helm in hand, Till I get up to the tall topmast, To see if I can spy land?" "O here am I, a sailor gude, To take the helm in hand, Till you go up to the tall topmast; But I fear you'll neer spy land.
Page 114 - You dye for love of mee. Fayre ladye, it is for your love That all this dill I drye : For if you wold comfort me with a kisse, 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. 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.
Page 113 - Fetche me downe my daughter deere, She is a leeche fulle fine : Goe take him doughe, and the baken bread, And serve him with the wyne soe red ; Lothe I were him to tine.
Page 53 - The ladyes wrang their fingers white, The maidens tore their hair, A for the sake of their true loves, For them they'll see na mair. O lang, lang may the ladyes sit, Wi' their fans into their hand, Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the strand!
Page 53 - He hadna gane a step, a step, A step but barely ane, When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, And the salt sea it came in. " Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith, " Another o' the twine, " And wap them into our ship's side,
Page 64 - Rothiemay's chamber and wakened him to rise ; and as he is wakening him, the timber passage and lofting of the chamber hastily takes fire, so that none of them could win down stairs again ; so they turned to a window looking to the close, where they piteously cried many times. Help, help ! for God's cause!