And slowly, slowly raise she up, And slowly, slowly left him, And, sighing, said she could not stay, Since death of life had reft him. She had not gane a mile but twa, When she heard the dead-bell ringing, And every jow that the dead-bell geid, It cry'd, "Woe to Barbara Allan." "O mother, mother, make my bed! O make it saft and narrow! Since my love died for me today, I'll die for him tomorrow." SIR PATRICK SPENCE The king sits in Dunferling toune, Drinking the blude-reid wine; "O whar will I get a guid sailór To sail this schip of mine?" Up and spak an eldern knicht, Sat at the king's richt kne: "Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailór, That sails upon the se." The king has written a braid letter, And signd it wi' his hand; And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence, Was walking on the sand. The first line that Sir Patrick red, A loud lauch lauchéd he; The next line that Sir Patrick red. The teir blinded his ee. "O wha is this has don this deid, This ill deid don to me, To send me out this time o' the yeir, To sail upon the se! "Mak haste, mak haste, my mirry men all, Our guid schip sails the morne." "O say na sae, my master deir, For I feir a deadlie storme. "Late late yestreen I saw the new moone, Wi' the auld moone in his arme, And I feir, I feir, my deir mastèr, That we will com to harme." O our Scots nobles wer richt laith To weet their cork-heild schoone; Bot lang owre a' the play wer playd, Thair hats they swam aboone. O lang, lang may their ladies sit, Wi' thair fans into their hand, Or eir they se Sir Patrick Spence Cum sailing to the land. O lang, lang may the ladies stand, Wi' thair gold kerns in their hair, Waiting for thair ain deir lords, For they'll se thame na mair. Half owre, half owre to Aberdour, It's fiftie fadom deip, And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence, Wi' the Scots lords at his feit. ROBIN HOOD AND ALLIN A DALE Come listen to me, you gallants so free, All you that loves mirth for to hear, And I will tell you of a bold outlaw, That lived in Nottinghamshire. As Robin Hood in the forest stood, All under the greenwood tree, There was he ware of a brave young man, As fine as fine might be. The youngster was clothed in scarlet red, In scarlet fine and gay; And he did frisk it over the plain, And chanted a roundelay. As Robin Hood next morning stood, Amongst the leaves so gay, There did he espy the same young man Come drooping along the way. The scarlet he wore the day before, It was clean cast away; And at every step he fetcht a sigh, "Alack and a well a day!" Then stepped forth brave Little John, And Nick the miller's son, Which made the young man bend his bow, When as he see them come. "Stand off, stand off," the young man said, "What is your will with me?" "You must come before our master straight, Under yon greenwood tree."