[THIS Northumbrian ballad is of great antiquity, and bears considerable resemblance to _The Baffled Knight_; _or_, _Lady’s Policy_, inserted in Percy’s _Reliques_. It is not in any popular collection. In the broadside from which it is here printed, the title and chorus are given, _Blow the Winds_, _I-O_, a form common to many ballads and songs, but only to those of great antiquity. Chappell, in his _Popular Music_, has an example in a song as old as 1698:— ‘Here’s a health to jolly Bacchus, I-ho! I-ho! I-ho!’ and in another well-known old catch the same form appears:— ‘A pye sat on a pear-tree, I-ho, I-ho, I-ho.’ ‘Io!’ or, as we find it given in these lyrics, ‘I-ho!’ was an ancient form of acclamation or triumph on joyful occasions and anniversaries. It is common, with slight variations, to different languages. In the Gothic, for example, Iola signifies to make merry. It has been supposed by some etymologists that the word ‘yule’ is a corruption of ‘Io!’] THERE was a shepherd’s son, He kept sheep on yonder hill; He laid his pipe and his crook aside, And there he slept his fill. And blow the winds, I-ho! Sing, blow the winds, I-ho! Clear away the morning dew, And blow the winds, I-ho! He lookèd east, and he lookèd west, He took another look, And there he spied a lady gay, Was dipping in a brook. She said, ‘Sir, don’t touch my mantle, Come, let my clothes alone; I will give you as much monèy As you can carry home.’ ‘I will not touch your mantle, I’ll let your clothes alone; I’ll take you out of the water clear, My dear, to be my own.’ He did not touch her mantle, He let her clothes alone; But he took her from the clear water, And all to be his own. He set her on a milk-white steed, Himself upon another; And there they rode along the road, Like sister, and like brother. And as they rode along the road, He spied some cocks of hay; ‘Yonder,’ he says, ‘is a lovely place For men and maids to play!’ And when they came to her father’s gate, She pullèd at a ring; And ready was the proud portèr For to let the lady in. And when the gates were open, This lady jumpèd in; She says, ‘You are a fool without, And I’m a maid within. ‘Good morrow to you, modest boy, I thank you for your care; If you had been what you should have been, I would not have left you there. ‘There is a horse in my father’s stable, He stands beyond the thorn; He shakes his head above the trough, But dares not prie the corn. ‘There is a bird in my father’s flock, A double comb he wears; He flaps his wings, and crows full loud, But a capon’s crest he bears.