The Text is taken from Scott's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (1802), vol. i. pp. 72-79, omitting the tedious Part I. Another of many versions may be found in Sir John Sinclair's Statistical Account of Scotland, vol. xiii. p...
There's a little fairy who Peeps from every drop of dew: You can see him wink and shine On the morning-glory vine, Mischief in his eye of blue. There's another fairy that...
Glory endures when calumny hath fled; And fairies show themselves, in friendly guise, To all who hold a trust beyond the dead, And all who pray, albeit so worldly-wise,...
O Saw ye not fair Ines? She's gone into the West, To dazzle when the sun is down, And rob the world of rest: She took our daylight with her, The smiles that we love best,...
The Text.--Of seven or eight variants of this ballad, only three preserve the full form of the story. On the whole, the one here given--from Sharp's Ballad Book, as sung by an old woman in Perthshire--is the best, as the other ...
Ov whooalsum food aw get mi fill, - Ov drink aw seldom want a gill; Aw've clooas to shield me free throo harm, Should winds be cold or th' sun be warm.
The Text is from Lovely Jenny's Garland, as given with emendations by Professor Child. There is also a curiously perverted version in Herd's manuscript, in which the verses require rearrangement before becoming intelligible....
Fair Prime of life! were it enough to gild With ready sunbeams every straggling shower; And, if an unexpected cloud should lower, Swiftly thereon a rainbow arch to build...
Smooth was the sea, and seem'd to call Two pretty girls to play withal: Who paddling there, the sea soon frown'd, And on a sudden both were drown'd. What credit can we give to seas,...
Fair Susan did her wif-hede well menteine, Algates assaulted sore by letchours tweine; Now, and I read aright that auncient song, Olde were the paramours, the dame full yong. ...
Dim vales- and shadowy floods, And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane, Again, again, again,...
There was a morrice on the moonlight plain, And music echoed in the woody glade, For fay-like forms, as of Titania's train, Upon a summer eve, beneath the shade Of Netley's ivied ruins, to the sound...