Was walking forth in the balmy air, She met a sailor upon the way; "Maiden stay," he whispered, "Maiden stay," he whispered, "O pretty maiden stay. "Why art thou walking abroad alone? The stars are shining, the day is done." O then her tears they began to flow, For a dark-eyed sailor, For a dark-eyed sailor, Had filled her heart with woe. "Three years are passed since he left this land, A ring of gold he took off my hand, He broke the token, a half to keep; Half he bade me treasure, Half he bade me treasure, Then crossed the briny deep." "O drive him, damsel, from out your mind, For men are changeful as is the wind, And love inconstant will quickly grow Cold as winter morning, Cold as winter morning, When lands are white with snow." "Above the snow is the holly seen, In bitter blast it abideth green, And blood-red drops it as berries bears; So my aching bosom, So my aching bosom, Its truth and sorrow wears." Then half the ring did the sailor show: "Away with weeping and sorrow now! In bands of marriage united we, Like the Broken Token, Like the Broken Token, In one shall welded be." YOUNG ROGER OF THE VALLEY |Young Roger of the mill One morning very soon, Put on his best apparel, New hose and clouted shoon; And he a-wooing came To bonny, buxom Nell. "Adzooks!" cried he, "couldst fancy me? For I like thee wondrous well. "My horses I have dress'd, And gi en them corn and hay, Put on my best apparel; And having come this way, Let's sit and chat a while, With thee, my bonny Nell; Dear lass," cries he, "couldst fancy me? I'se like thy person well." "Young Roger, you re mistaken," The damsel then reply'd, "I'm not in such a haste To be a ploughman's bride; Know I then live in hopes To marry a farmer's son;" "If it be so," says Hodge, "I'll go, Sweet mistress, I have done." "Your horses you have dress'd, Good Hodge, I heard you say, Put on your best apparel; And being come this way, Come sit and chat awhile." "O no, indeed, not I, I'll neither wait, nor sit, nor prate, I've other fish to fry." "Go, take your farmer's son, With all my honest heart; What tho' my name be Roger, That goes at plough and cart? I need not tarry long, I soon may gain a wife: There's buxom Joan, it is well known, She loves me as her life." "Pray, what of buxom Joan? Can't I please you as well? For she has ne'er a penny, And I am buxom Nell; And I have fifty shillings" (The money made him smile): "O then, my dear, I'll draw a chair, And chat with thee a while." Within the space of half-an-hour This couple a bargain struck, Hoping that with their money They both would have good luck; "To your fifty I've forty,