Where we the lambs may spy/' And 'twas down in yonder valley, love, Where the water glideth by. He held her hand, he whispered love; He swore his heart was true; He kissed her lips; the lambs did skip About them on the dew, About them in the morning dew, Beneath a summer sky, And 'twas down in yonder valley, love, Where the water glideth by. So married were the happy pair, And joined in wedlock's band, No more they go to seek the lambs Together hand in hand; They go no more a searching for Her sheep with tearful eye, All adown in yonder valley, love, Where the water glideth by. THE BROWN GIRL |I am as brown, as brown can be, And my eyes are as black as sloe; I am as brisk as a nightingale, And wild as a forest doe. My love he was so high and proud, His fortune too so high; He, for another fair pretty maid, Did scorn and passed me by. Me did he send a love letter, And he sent it from the town, Saying, no more he loved me, For that I was so brown. I sent his letter back again, For his love I valued not; Whether that he would fancy me, Whether that he would not. When that six months were over passed, Were over passed and gone, Then did my lover, once so bold, Alie on his bed and groan. When that six months were over passed, Were over gone and passed, My lover, then, so bold and proud, With love was sick at last. First sent he for the doctor's man, "You, doctor, must me cure; The cruel pains that torture me, I never can long endure." Next did he send from out the town, O next did send for me; He sent for me, the brown, brown girl, Who once his wife should be. O never a bit the doctor man His sufferings could relieve; O never an one but the brown, brown girl, Who could his life reprieve. O now you shall hear what was she had For this poor love-sick man, All of the day, and a summers day, She walked, but never ran. When that she came to his bedside, Where he lay sick and weak, O then for laughing she scarce could stand Upright upon her feet. "You flouted me, you scouted me, And many another one, And now the reward has come at last For all that you have done." She took the rings from off her hand, The rings, by two and three; "O take, and O take these golden rings, By them remember me." She had a white wand in her hand, She strake him on the breast; "My faith and troth I give back to thee, So may thy soul have rest." "Prithee," said he, "forgive, forget; Prithee, forget, forgive; Grant to me yet a little space, That I may longer live." "O never will I forget, forgive, So long as I have breath, I'll dance above your green, green grave, Where you do lie beneath." THE ROVING JOURNEY-MAN |Young Jack he was a journey-man