Vagabond Songs and Ballads of Scotland: With Many Old and Familiar Melodies

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Robert Ford
Alexander Gardner, 1899 - 259 strán (strany)
 

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Strana 173 - OLD King Cole was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three.
Strana 168 - I'll tak the low road, And I'll be in Scotland afore ye, But me and my true love will never meet again On the bonnie, bonnie banks o
Strana 247 - O wow ! quo' he, were I as free As first when I saw this countrie, How blythe and merry wad I be 1 And I wad never think lang. He grew canty, and she grew fain, But little did her auld minny ken What thir slee twa thegither were say'ng, When wooing they were sae thrang. And O, quo...
Strana 60 - O haud your tongue, my daughter dear, Be still, and be content ; There are mair lads in Galloway, Ye need nae sair lament." " O there is nane in Galloway, « There's nane at a' for me ; For I never loved a lad but ane, And he's drowned in the sea.
Strana 177 - The lamb likes the gowan wi' dew when it's droukit ; The hare likes the brake and the braird on the lea : But Lucy likes Jamie," — she turn'd and she lookit, She thocht the dear place she wad never mair see. Ah, weel may young Jamie gang dowie and cheerless ! And weel may he greet on the bank o...
Strana 249 - I'll bow my leg, and crook my knee, And draw a black clout o'er my ee j A cripple, or blind, they will ca' me, While we shall be merry and sing.
Strana 248 - Since naething's awa', as we can learn, The kirn's to kirn, and milk to earn, Gae but the house, lass, and waken my bairn, And bid her come quickly ben.
Strana 201 - An' aye she e'ed my auld breeks, The time that we sat crackin', Quo' I, my lass, ne'er mind the clouts, I've new anes for the makin' ; But gin ye'll just come hame wi' me, An' lea' the carle, your father, Ye'se get my breeks to keep in trim, Mysel' an' a
Strana 176 - was ilka bird's sang ; She heard the craw sayin't, high on the tree sittin', And robin was chirpin't the brown leaves amang. Oh, what is't that pits my puir heart in a flutter ? And what gars the tears come sae fast to my e'e ? If I wasna ettled to be ony better, Then what gars me wish...
Strana 28 - Gilderoy. Wae worth the loun that made the laws, To hang a man for gear, To 'reave of life for ox or ass, For sheep, or horse, or mare : Had not their laws been made sae strick, I neir had lost my joy, Wi' sorrow neir had wat my cheek, . For my dear Gilderoy.

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