VII. Sir John Grehme and Barbara Allan. A SCOTTISH BALLAD. Printed, with a few conjectural emendations, from a written copy. Ir was in and about the Martinmas time, He sent his man down throw the towne, 5 O hooly, hooly raise she up, 10 O its I'm sick, and very very sick, *An ingenious friend thinks the ought to be transposed; as the taunt, lyand,' would be very characteristical. rhymes dyand and lyand Young man, I think ye're 176 SIR JOHN GREHME AND BARBARA ALLAN. 15 O the better for me ye'se never be, Though your harts blude wer spillan. Remember ye nat in the tavern, sir, Whan ye the cups wer fillan; How ye made the healths gae round and round, He turn'd his face unto the wa', And death was with him dealan ; Be kind to Barbara Allan. 20 And everye jow the deid-bell geid, Cried, Wae to Barbara Allan! VIII. The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington. From an ancient black-letter copy in the Pepys collection, with some improvements communicated by a lady as she had heard the same recited in her youth. The full title is, "True love requited; or, the Bailiff's daughter of Islington." Islington in Norfolk is probably the place here meant. THERE was a youthe, and a well-beloved youthe, And he was a squires son: He loved the bayliffes daughter deare, That lived in Islington. Yet she was coye, and would not believe That he did love her soe, Noe nor at any time would she Any countenance to him showe. But when his friendes did understand His fond and foolish minde, They sent him up to faire London An apprentice for to binde. And when he had been seven long yeares, And never his love could see: 5 10 178 THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON. Many a teare have I shed for her sake, 15 Then all the maids of Islington Went forth to sport and playe, All but the bayliffes daughter deare; 20 She pulled off her gowne of greene, And put on ragged attire, And to faire London she would go And as she went along the high road, 25 She started up, with a colour soe redd, Catching hold of his bridle-reine; 30 One penny, one penny, kind sir, she sayd, Will ease me of much paine. Before I give you one penny, sweet-heart, 35 ww At Islington, kind sir, sayd shee, Where I have had many a scorne. I prythee, sweet-heart, then tell to mee, کو The bayliffes daughter of Islington. If she be dead, then take my horse, Where noe man shall me knowe. 40 O staye, O staye, thou goodlye youthe, 45 She is here alive, she is not dead, And readye to be thy bride. O farewell griefe, and welcome joye, Ten thousand times therefore; 50 For nowe I have founde mine owne true love, Whom I thought I should never see more. |