Ballads, English -- Texts; Songs, English -- Texts
My mind her form shall still retain,
In sleeping, or in waking,
Until I see my love again,
For whom my heart is breaking.
If ever I return that way,
And she should not decline me,
I evermore will live and stay
With the girl I've left behind me.
EDWARD! EDWARD!
SIR DAVID DALRYMPLE
'Why does your brand so drop with blood?
Edward! Edward!
Why does your brand so drop with blood?
And why so sad go ye, O?'
'O! I have killed my hawk so good,
Mother! Mother!
O! I have killed my hawk so good,
And I have no more but he, O!'
'Your hawk's blood was never so red,
Edward! Edward!
Your hawk's blood was never so red,
My dear son, I tell thee, O!'
'O! I have killed my red roan steed,
Mother! Mother!
O! I have killed my red roan steed,
That once was fair and free, O!'
'Your steed was old and ye have got more,
Edward! Edward!
Your steed was old and ye have got more,
Some other dule you drie, O!'
'O! I have killed my father dear,
Mother! Mother!
O! I have killed my father dear,
Alas, and woe is me, O!'
'And what penance will ye drie for that?
Edward! Edward!
And what penance will ye drie for that?
My dear son, now tell me, O!'
'I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
Mother! Mother!
I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
And I'll fare over the sea, O!'
'And what will you do with your towers and your hall?
Edward! Edward!
And what will you do with your towers and your hall?
They were so fair to see, O!'
'I'll let them stand till they down fall,
Mother! Mother!
I'll let them stand till they down fall,
For here never more must I be, O!'
'And what will you leave to your bairns and your wife?
Edward! Edward!
And what will you leave to your bairns and your wife?
When you go over the sea, O!'
'The world's room, let them beg through life,
Mother! Mother!
The world's room, let them beg through life,
For them never more will I see, O!'
'And what will you leave to your own mother dear?
Edward! Edward!
And what will you leave to your own mother dear?
My dear son, now tell me, O!'
'The curse of hell from me shall you bear,
Mother! Mother!
The curse of hell from me shall you bear,
Such counsels you gave to me, O!'
O NANNY, WILT THOU GO WITH ME?
THOMAS PERCY
O Nanny, wilt thou go with me,
Nor sigh to leave the flaunting town?
Can silent glens have charms for thee,--
The lowly cot and russet gown?
No longer drest in silken sheen,
No longer deck'd with jewels rare,--
Say, canst thou quit each courtly scene,
Where thou wert fairest of the fair?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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