 Introduction of Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England. In 1846, the Percy Society issued to its members a volume entitled, Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England, edited by Mr. James Henry Dixon. The sources drawn upon by Mr. Dixon are intimated in the following extract from his preface. He who, in travelling through the rural districts of England, has made the roadside in his resting place, who has visited the lowly dwellings of the villagers and yulemenry, and been present at their feasts and festivals, must have observed that there are certain old poems, ballads, and songs which are favourites with the masses, and have been said and sung from generation to generation. This traditional and for the most part unprinted literature, cherished in remote villages, resisting everywhere the invasion of modern Namby Pamby verse and jaunty melody, and possessing, in a historical point of view, a special value as a faithful record of the feeling, usages, and modes of life of the rural population, had been almost wholly passed over amongst the antiquarian revivals, which constitute one of the distinguishing features of the present age. While attention was successfully drawn to other forms of our early poetry, this peasant minstrelsy was scarcely touched, and might be considered unexplored ground. There was great difficulty in collecting materials which lay scattered so widely, and which could be procured in their genuine simplicity only from the people amongst whom they originated, and with whom they are as familiar as household words. It was even still more difficult to find an editor who combined genial literary taste with the local knowledge of character, customs, and dialect, indispensable to the collation of such relics, and thus, although their national interest was universally recognised, they were silently permitted to fall into comparative oblivion. To supply this manifest desideratum, Mr. Dixon compiled his volume for the Percy Society, and its pages, embracing only a selection from the rich stores he had gathered, abundantly exemplified that gentleman's remarkable qualifications for the labour he had undertaken. After stating in his preface that contributions from various quarters had accumulated so largely on his hands, as to compel him to omit many pieces he was desirous of preserving, he thus describes generally the contents of the work. In what we have retained will be found every variety, from grave to gay, from lively to severe, from the moral poem and the religious dialogue, the scrolls that teach us to live and to die, to the legendary, the historical, or the domestic ballad, from the strains that enliven the harvest home and festival, to the lovedities which the country last warbles, or the comic song with which the rustic sets the village hostile in a roar. In our collection are several pieces exceedingly scarce, and hitherto to be met with only in broad sides and chapbooks of the utmost rarity, in addition to which we have given several others never before in print, and obtained by the editor and his friends, either from the oral recitation of the peasantry, or from manuscripts in the possession of private individuals. The novelty of the matter, and the copious resources disclosed by the editor acquired for the volume a popularity extending far beyond the limited circle to which it was addressed, and although the addition was necessarily restricted to the members of the Percy Society, the book was quoted not only by English writers, but by some of the most distinguished archaeologists on the continent. It had always been my intention to form a collection of local songs illustrative of popular festivals, customs, manners, and dialects. As the merit of having anticipated and in a great measure accomplished this project, belongs exclusively to Mr. Dixon, so to that gentleman I have now the pleasure of tendering my acknowledgments for the means of enriching the annotated edition of the English poets with a volume which, in some respects, is the most curious and interesting of the series. Subsequently to the publication of his collection by the Percy Society, Mr. Dixon had amassed additional materials of great value and conscious that the work admitted of considerable improvement, both in the way of omission and augmentation, he resolved upon the preparation of a new edition. His reasons for rejecting certain portions of the former volume are stated in the following extract from a communication with which he has obliged me and which may be considered as his own introduction to the ensuing pages. The editor had passed his earliest years in a romantic mountain district in the north of England where old customs and manners and old songs and ballads still linger. Under the influence of these associations he imbibed a passionate love for peasant rhymes, having little notion at that time that the simple minstrelsy which afforded him so much delight could yield hardly less pleasure to those who cultivated more artificial modes of poetry and who knew little of the life of the peasantry. His collection was not issued without diffidence, but the result dissipated all apprehension as to the estimate in which these essentially popular productions are held. The reception of the book indeed far exceeded its merits, for he has bound and candor to say that it was neither so complete nor so judiciously selected as it might have been. Like almost all books issued by societies it was got up in haste and hurried through the press. It contained some things which were out of place in such a work, but which were inserted upon solicitations that could not have been very easily refused. And even where the matter was unexceptionable it sometimes happened that it was printed from comparatively modern broadsides for want of time to consult earlier editions. In the interval which has since elapsed all these defects and shortcomings have been remedied. Several pieces which had no legitimate claims to the places they occupied have been removed. Others have been collated with more ancient copies that the author had had access to previously, and the whole work has been considerably enlarged. In its present form it is strictly what its title page implies, a collection of poems, ballads, and songs preserved by tradition and an actual circulation amongst the peasantry. Becks, Canton Devote, Switzerland The present volume differs in many important particulars from the former of the deficiencies of which Mr. Dixon makes so frank in a vowel. It has not only undergone a careful revision, but has received additions to an extent which renders it almost a new work. Many of these accessions are taken from extremely rare originals, and others are here printed for the first time, including amongst the latter the ballad of Earl Brand, a traditional lyric of great antiquity, long familiar to the dales of the north of England, and the death of Queen Jane, a relic of more than ordinary interest. Nearly forty songs noted down from recitation or gathered from sources not generally accessible have been added to the former collection, illustrative for the most part of historical events, country pastimes, and local customs. Not the least suggestive feature in this department are the political songs it contains, which have long outlived the occasions that gave them birth, and which still retain their popularity, although their illusions are no longer understood. Amongst this class of songs may be specially indicated Jack and Tom, Joan's Ale was New, George Riddler's Oven, and The Carrion Crow. The songs of a strictly rural character, having reference to the occupations and intercourse of the people, possess an interest which cannot be adequately measured by their poetical pretensions. The very defects of art with which they are chargeable constitute their highest claim to consideration as authentic specimens of country lore. The songs and praise of the dairy or the plough or in celebration of the harvest home or the churn supper or descriptive of the pleasures of the milkmaid or the courtship in the farmhouse or those that give us glimpses of the ways of life of the waggoner, the poacher, the horse dealer, and the boon companion of the roadside hostelry are no less curious for their idiomatic and primitive forms of expression than for their pictures of rustic modes and manners. Of special interest, too, are the songs which relate to festival and customs, such as the sword-dancers' song and interlude, the swearing-in song or rhyme at Highgate, the Cornish Midsummer Bonfire song, and the Fairlop Fair song. In the arrangement of so multifarious an anthology gathered from nearly all parts of the kingdom, the observance of chronological order for obvious reasons has not been attempted. But pieces which possess any kind of affinity to each other have been kept together as nearly as other considerations would permit. The value of this volume consists in the genuineness of its contents and the healthiness of its tone. While fashionable life was masquerading in imaginary arcadias and deluging theaters and concert rooms with shams, the English peasant remained true to the realities of his own experience and produced and sang songs which faithfully reflected the actual life around him. Whatever these songs describe is true to that life. There are no fictitious raptures in them. Love here never dresses its emotions in artificial images, nor disguises itself in the mask of a Strefin or a Daphne. It is in this particular aspect that the poetry of the country possesses a permanent and moral interest. R. B. End of introduction. Section 1 of Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Josh Kibbey. The Plain Dealing Man The oldest copy of the Plain Dealing Man with which we have been able to meet is in black letter printed by T. Vair at the sign of the Angels Without Newgate. Vair was living in 1609. A crotchet comes into my mind concerning a proverb of old, plain dealings a jewel most rare and more precious than silver or gold. And therefore with patience give ear and listen to what here is pinned, these verses were written on purpose the honest man's cause to defend. For this I will make it appear and prove by experience I can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. Yet some are so impeding grown to be a nomineer, vapor and swagger and say that the Plain Dealing Man was born to die a beggar, but men that are honestly given do such evil actions detest and everyone that is well-minded will say that plain dealing is best. For this I will make it appear and prove by experience I can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. For my part I am a poor man and sometimes scarce muster a shilling, yet to live upright in the world and those be threadbare and my calling be simple and poor, yet will I endeavor myself to keep off the wolf from the door. For this I will make it appear and prove by experience I can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. And now to be brief in discourse in plain terms I'll tell you my mind my qualities you all shall know and to what my humor's inclined I hate all dissembling base-naves and pick things whoever they be drabs and such like they shall never get penny of me. For this I will make it appear and prove by experience I can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. Nor can I abide any tongues that will prattle and pray against reason about that which doth not concern them which thing is no better than treason wherefore I'd wish all that do hear me not to meddle with matters of state lest they be in question called for it and repent them when it is too late. And prove by experience I can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. Oh, fire upon spiteful neighbors whose malicious humours are bent and do practice and strive every day to wrong the poor innocent. By means of such persons as they, there hath many a good mother son been utterly brought to decay their wives and their children undone. For this I will make it appear and prove by experience I can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. Oh, fire upon forced-worn neighbors that do no conscience make to swear and force-wear themselves at every third word they do speak, so they may get profit and gain they care not what lies they do tell. Such cursed assemblers as they are worse than the devils of hell. For this I will make it appear and prove by experience I can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. Oh, fire upon greedy bribe takers that they ever draw breath, for they, like to base caterpillars, devour up the fruits of the earth, their apt to take money with both hands on one side and also the other and care not what men they undo though it be their own father or brother. Therefore I will make it appear and show very good reasons I can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. Oh, fire upon cheaters and thieves that liveth by fraud and deceit, the gallows due for such blades grown by those weight, though poverty be a disgrace and want is a pitiful grief, tis better to go like a beggar than to ride in a cart like a thief. For this I will make it appear and prove by experience I can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. And now let all honest men judge if such men as I have here named for their wicked and impudent dealings deserveeth not much to be blamed. And now here before I conclude one item to the world I will give and teach them the better to live. For now I have made it appear and many men witness it can, tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain dealing man. One, in the first place I wish you beware of what company you come in for those that are wicked themselves may quickly tempt others to sin. Two, if youths be induced with wealth and have plenty of silver and gold I'd wish them keep something in store to comfort them when they are old. Three, I have known many young protocols that have wasted their money so fast that they have been driven in want and were forced to beg at the last. Four, I'd wish all men bear good conscience and in all their actions be jest for he's a false varlet indeed that will not be true to his trust. And now to conclude my new song and draw to a perfect conclusion I have told you what is in my mind and what is my firm resolution. For this I have made it appear and prove by experience I can tis the excellence thing in the world to be a plain-dealing man. End of The Plain-Dealing Man Section 2 Of ancient poems, ballads and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima The Vanities of Life The following verses were copied by John Clare the Northamptonshire peasant from a manuscript on the fly-leaves of an old book in the possession of a poor man entitled The World's Best Wealth a collection of choice councils in verse and prose printed for A. Bettersworth at the Red Lion in Paternoster Row, 1720. They were written in a crabbed, quaint hand and difficult to decipher. Clare remitted the poem along with the original manuscript to Montgomery, the author of The World Before the Flood etc., etc., by whom it was published in the Sheffield Iris. Montgomery s criticism is as follows Long as the poem appears to the eye, it will abundantly repay the trouble of perusal, being full of condensed and admirable thought as well as diversified with exuberant imagery and embellished with peculiar felicity of language, the moral points in the closing couplets of the stanzas are often powerfully enforced. Most readers will agree in the justice of these remarks. The poem was, probably, as Clare supposes, written about the commencement of the 18th century and the unknown author appears to have been deeply imbued with the spirit of the popular devotional writers of the preceding century as Herbert, Quarles, etc., but seems to have modeled his smoother and more elegant versification after that of the poetic school of his own times. Vanity of vanities all is vanity. Solomon What are life's joys and gains? What pleasures crowd its ways, that man should take such pains to seek them all his days? Sift this untoward strife on which thy mind is bent, see if this chap of life is worth the trouble spent. Is pride thy heart's desire? Is power thy arming aim? Is love thy folly's fire? Is wealth thy restless game? Pride, power, love, wealth and all, time's touchstone shall destroy, and, like base coin, prove all, vain substitutes for joy. Thus think that pride exalts thy self in other's eyes and hides thy folly's faults, which reason despise. Thus strut and turn and stride, like walking weather cocks, the shadow by thy side becomes thy ape and mocks. Thus think that power's disguise can make thee mighty seem, it may in folly's eyes but not in worth's esteem. When all that thou can't ask and all that she can give but a paltry mask which tyrants wear and live, go let thy fancies range and ramble where they may, view power in every change and what is the display? The country magistrate, the lowest shade in power, to rulers of the state, the meteors of an hour. View all and mark the end of every proud extreme where flattery turns a friend and counterfeits esteem, where worth is aped and show that doth her name perloin, like toys of golden glow that's sold for copper coin. Ambitions haughty nod, with fancies may deceive, nay, tell thee thou art a God and wilt thou such believe? Go. Did the seas be dry? Go. Hold earth like a ball or throw her fancies by for God can do it all. Thus thou possess the dour of laws to spare or kill, call it not heavenly power when but a tyrant's will. Know what a God will do and know thyself a fool nor tyrant like pursue where he alone should rule. Thus think when wealth is won thy heart has its desire. Hold ice up to the sun and wax before the fire nor triumph or the rain which they so soon resign and this world weighs the gain insurance save as thine. Thus think life's peace secure in houses and in land. Go. Read the fairy lure in the court of sand. Lodge stones upon the sky hold water in a sieve nor give such tales the lie and still thine own believe. Who so with riches steals and thinks peace bought and sold will find them slipper eels that slide the firmest hold. Though sweet is sleep with health, thy lulling luck may be. Pride may o'erstride thy wealth and check prosperity. Thus think the beauty's power life's sweetest pleasure gives. Go. Pluck the summer flower and see how long it lives. Behold the rays glide on along the summer plain ere thou can't say they're gone and measure beauty's reign. Look on the brightest sky nor teach it to be proud but view the clearest sky and thou shalt find a cloud nor call each fey she meet in angels because it's fair but look beneath your feet and think of what ye are. Who thinks that love doth live in beauty's tempting show shall find his hopes ungive and melt in reason's thaw. Who thinks the pleasure lies and every fairy bower shall off to his surprise find poison in the flower. Thus lullous pleasures grasp judge not thou deals to enjoy its flowers but hide the asp thy revels to destroy who trust a harlot smile and by her wiles is led plays with a sword the while hung dropping o'er his head. Thus doubt my warning song then doubt the sun gives light doubt truth to teach thee wrong and wrong alone is right and live as lives the nave intrigues deceiving guest be tyrant or be slave as suits thy ends the best or pause amid thy toils for visions won and lost and count the fancied spoils if ere they quit the cost and if they still possess thy mind is worthy things pick straws with bedlam best and call them diamond rings thy follies past advice thy hearts already won thy falls above all price so go and be undone for all who thus prefer the seeming great for small shall make wine vinegar and sweetest honey gall which heed the truth siging to profit wherewithal clip follies wanton wing and keep her within call I have little else to give but thou canst easy try the lesson how to live is but to learn to die end of the vanities of life section three ancient poems, ballads and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording by Nima the life and age of man from one of Thackery's catalogs preserved in the British Museum it appears that the life and age of man was one of the productions printed by him at the Angel and Duck Lane London Thackery's imprint is found attached to broadsides published between 1672 and 1688 and he probably commenced printing soon after the accession of Charles II the present reprint the correctness of which is very questionable is taken from a modern broadside the editor not having been fortunate enough to meet with any earlier edition this old poem is said to have been a great favourite with a father of Robert Burns in prime of years when I was young I took delight in youthful ways not knowing then what did belong unto the pleasures of those days at seven years old I was a child then subject then to be beguiled at two times seven I went to learn what discipline is taught at school when good from ill I could discern I thought myself no more fool my parents were contriving then how I might live when I were man at three times seven I waxed wild when manhood led me to be bold I thought myself no more a child my own conceit it so me told then did I venture far and near to buy delight at price full dear at four times seven I take a wife and leave off all my wanton ways thinking thereby perhaps to thrive and save myself from sad disgrace so farewell my companions all for other business and call at five times seven I must hard strive when I could gain by mighty skill but still against the stream I drive and bowl upstones against the hill the more I labored might and main the more I strove against the stream at six times seven all covetous began to harbor in my breast my mind still then contriving was this warbly wealth to purchase lands and live on them so make my children mighty men at seven times seven all warbly thought began to harbor in my brain then did I drink a heavy draft of water of experience plain there none so ready was as I to purchase bargains sell or buy at eight times seven I wax it old and took myself unto my rest neighbors then sought my counsel bold and I was held in great request but age did so abate my strength that I was forced to yield at length at nine times seven take my leave of former vain delights must I it then full sorely did me grieve I fetched many a heavy sigh to rise up early and sit up late my former life I loathen hate at ten times seven my glasses run and I poor silly man must die I look it up and saw the sun had overcome the crystal sky so now I must this world forsake another man my place must take now you may see as in a glass a whole a state of mortal man how they from seven to seven do pass until they are three score and ten and when their glass is fully run they must leave off as they begun end of the life and age of man by Devorah Allen the young man's wish from an old copy without printer's name probably one from the Aldermary churchyard press poems and triplets were very popular during the reign of Charles I and are frequently to be met with during the interregnum and the reign of Charles II if I could but attain my wish I'd have each day one wholesome dish of plain meat or fowl or fish a glass of port with good old beer in winter time a fire burnt clear tobacco pipes and easy chair in some clean town a snug retreat a little garden for my gate with thousand pounds a year a state after my house expense was clear whatever I could have to spare the neighbouring poor should freely share to keep content and peace through life I'd have a prudent cleanly wife stranger to noise and eek to strife then I went blessed with such a state with such a house and such a mate would envy not the worldly great let them for noisy honors try let them seek worldly praise while I unnoticed would live and die but since Dame Fortune's not thought fit to place me in a fluence yet I'll be content with what I get he's happiest far whose humble mind is unto providence resigned and thinketh Fortune always kind then I will strive to bound my wish and take instead of foul and fish what air is thrown into my dish instead of wealth and Fortune great garden and house and loving mate I'll rest content in servile state I'll from each folly strive to fly each virtue to attain I'll try and live as I would wish to die End of The Young Man's Wish The Midnight Messenger or a sudden call from an earthly glory to the cold grave in a dialogue between death and a rich man who in the midst of all of his wealth received the tidings of his last day to his unspeakable and sorrowful lamentation to the tune of Aim Not Too High and cetera the following poem and the two that immediately follow belong to a class of publications which have always been peculiar favorites of the 17th century in whose cottages they may be frequently seen neatly framed and glazed and suspended from the whitewashed walls they belong to the school of quarrels and can be traced to the time when that writer was in the height of his popularity these religious dialogues are numerous but the majority of them are very namby pamby productions and unworthy of a reprint the modern editions preserve the old form of the broad side of the 17th century and are adorned with rude woodcuts the wooden cuts, strange and uncouth dire faces, figures dire sharp need, sharp elbowed and lean angled too with long and ghostly shanks, forms which once seen can never be forgotten Wordsworth's excursion Death Thou wealthy man of large possessions here amounting to some thousand pounds a year, extorted by oppression from the poor, the time has come that thou shalt be no more Thy house therefore in order set with speed and call to mind how you your life do lead let true repentance be thy chiefest care and for another world now now prepare for notwithstanding all your heaps of gold your lands and lofty buildings manifold take notice you must die this very day and therefore kiss your bags and come away rich man he started straight and turned his head aside where seen pale faced death a loud he cried lean famished slave why do you threaten so whence come you pray and wither must I go death I come from ranging round the universe through courts and kingdoms far and near I pass where rich and poor distressed, bond and free fall soon or late to sacrifice to me from crowned kings to captives bound and chains my power reaches sir the longest reigns that ever were I put a period to and now I'm come and find to conquer you rich man I can't nor won't believe that you pale death were sent this day to stop my vital breath by reason I am perfect health remain free from diseases sorrow grief and pain no heavy heart nor fainting fits of I and do you say that I am drying nigh the latter minute sure it cannot be depart therefore you are not sent for me death yes yes I am for did you never know the tender grass and pleasant flowers that grow perhaps one minute are the next cut down and so is man though famed with high renown have you not heard the doleful passing bell ring out for those that were alive and well the other day and health and pleasure too and had as little thoughts of death as you for let me tell you when my warrants sealed the sweetest beauty that the earth death yielded my approach shall turn as pale as lead to his eye that lay them on their dying bed I kill with dropsy for physics stone and gut but when my raging fevers fly about I strike the man perhaps but overnight who hardly lives to see the morning light I'm sent each hour like to a nimble page to infant hoary heads and middle age time after time I sweep the world quite through then it's in vain to think I'll favor you rich man proud death you see what awful sway I bear for when I frown none of my servants dare approach my presence but in corners hide until I am appeased and pacified nay men of greater rank I keep an awe nor did I ever fear the force of law but ever did my enemies subdue and must I after all submit to you death it is very true for why I daring soul which never could endure the least control I'll thrust thee from this earthly tenement and thou shalt to another world be sent rich man what must I die and leave a vast estate which with my gold I purchased but of late besides what I had many years ago what must my wealth and I be parted so if you your darts and arrows must let fly go search the jails where morning debtors lie release them from their sorrow grief and woe for I am rich and therefore loathe to go death I'll search no jails but the right mark I'll hit and though you are unwilling to submit yet die you must no other friend can do prepare yourself to go I'm come for you if you had all the world and ten times more yet die you must there's millions gone before the greatest kings on earth yield and obey and at my feet their crowns and sceptres lay if crowned heads and right renowned peers die in the prime emblazoms of their years can you suppose to gain a longer space no I will send you to another place rich man oh stay thy hand and be not so severe I have a hopeful son and daughter dear all that I beg us but to let me live that I may them and lawful marriage give they being young when I'm late in the grave I fear they will be wronged of what they have although of me you will know pity take yet spare me for my little infant's sake death if such a fain excuse as this might do it would be long immortals would go through the shades of death for every man would find something to say that he might stay behind yet of ten thousand arguments they'd use the destiny of dying to excuse they'll find it is in vain with me to strive for why I part the dearest friends alive poor parents die and leave their children small with nothing to support them here with all but the kind hand of gracious providence who is their father friend and soul defense though I've held you long and disreputed yet after all here with the sharps elute I'll put a period to your days and years causing your eyes to flow with dying tears rich man then with a groan he made this sad complaint my heart is dying and my spirits faint to my close chamber let me be conveyed farewell false world for thou hast me betrayed would I had never wrong of the fatherless nor mourning widows when in sad distress would I had never been guilty of that sin would I had never known what gold had been for by the same my heart was drawn away to search for gold but now this very day I find it is but like a slender reed which fails me most when most I stand in need for woe is me the time has come at last now I am on a bed of sorrow cast where in lamenting tears I weeping lie because my sins make me afraid to die oh death be pleased to spare me at a while that I to god myself may reconcile for true repentance some small time allow I never fear to future state till now my bags of golden land I'd freely give for to obtain the favor here to live until I have a sure foundation laid let me not die before my peace be made death thou hast not many minutes here to stay lift up your heart to god without delay implore his pardon now for what is past who knows but he may save your soul last rich man I'll walk her now with tears my dying bed before the lord my sad complaint I'll spread and if he will vouch safe to pardon me to die and leave this world I could be free false world false world farewell farewell adieu I find I find there is no trust in you for when upon a dying bed we lie your gilded baits are not but misery my youthful son and loving daughter dear take warning by your dying father here let not the world deceive you at this rate for fear a sad repentance comes too late sweet babes a little thought the other day I should so suddenly be snatched away by death and leave you weeping here behind but life's the most uncertain thing I find when in the grave my head is laying full low pray let not folly prove your overthrow serve ye the lord obey his holy will the team may have a blessing for you still having saluted them he turned aside these were the very words before he died a painful life I am ready to leave where foreign mercy lord my soul receive end of the midnight messenger section six of ancient poems ballads and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Jim Gallagher a dialogue betwixt an excise man and death transcribed from a copy in the British Museum printed in London by Jay Clark 1659 the idea of death being employed to execute a writ recalls an epithet which we remember to have seen in a village churchyard at the foot of Wrecken in Shropshire commencing thus the king of heaven a warrant got and sealed it without delay and he did give the same to death for him to serve straight away upon a time when titan's steeds were driven to drench themselves beneath the western heaven and sable Morpheus had his curtain spread and silent night had laid the world to bed amongst other nightbirds which did seek for prey a blunt excise man which abhorred the day was rambling forth to see himself a booty amongst merchants goods for his duty but walking all alone death chanced to meet him and in this manner did begin to greet him death stand who comes here what means this nave to peep and skulk abroad when honest men should sleep speak what's thy name and quickly tell me this whether thou goest and what thy business is excise man whatever my business is thou foulmouth's gold I'd have you know I scorn to be controlled by any man that lives much less by thou who blurtest out thou knowest not what nor how I go about my lawful business and I'll make you smart forbidding me stand death imperious coxcomb your stomach vexed praise lack your rage and harken what comes next I have a writ to take you up therefore to chafe your blood I bid you stand once more excise man a writ to take me up excuse me sir you do mistake I am an officer in public service for my private wealth my business is if any seek by stealth to undermine the state I do discover their falsehood therefore hold your hand give over death nay fair and soft it is not so quickly done as you conceive it is I am not gone I jot the sooner for your hasty chat nor bragging language for I tell you flat it is more than so though fortune seem to thwart us such easy terms I don't intend shall part us with this impartial arm I'll make you feel my fingers first and with this shaft of steel I'll peck thy bones as though alive weren't hated so dead to dogs thou shalt be segregated excise man I'd laugh at that I with thou didst but dare to lay thy fingers on me and spare to hack thy carcass till my sword was broken I'd make thee eat the words which thou hast spoken all men should warning take by thy transgression how they molested men of my profession my service to the state is so well known that should I but complain they'd quickly own my public grievances and give me a right to cut your ears before tomorrow night death well said indeed but bootless all for I am well acquainted with thy villainy I know thy office and thy trade is such thy service little and thy gains are much thy brags are many but is vain to swagger and think to fight me with thy guilty dagger as I abhor thy person so now I'll bring thee to the judgment seat excise man the judgment seat I must confess that word doth cut my heart like any sharpened sword what come to count he thinks that dreadful sound of every word doth make a mortal wound which sticks not only in my outward skin but penetrates my very soul within it was least of all my thoughts that ever death would once attempt to stop excise man's breath but sensed is so that now I do perceive you are an earnest that I must relieve myself another way come we'll be friends if I have wronged thee I'll make them ends let's join together I'll pass my word this night shall yield a scrub before the morning light or otherwise to mitigate my sorrow stay here I'll bring you gold enough tomorrow death tomorrow's gold I will not have and thou shalt have no gold upon tomorrow now my final writ shall to the execution have thee all earthly treasure cannot help or save thee excise man then woe is me ah how I was befooled I thought that gold which answereth all things could have stood my friend time to bale me but grief grows great and now my trust doth fail me oh that my conscience were but clear within which now is ragged with my former sin with horror I behold my secret stealing my bribes oppression and my graceless dealing my office sins which I had clean forgotten will gnaw my soul when all my bones are rotten I must confess it every grief dead or alive both God and man doth curse me let all excise men hereby warning take to shun their practice for their conscience's sake end of a dialogue betwixt an excise man and death recording by Jim Gallagher section 7 of ancient poems ballads and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Josh Kibbe the messenger of mortality or life and death contrasted in a dialogue betwixt death and a lady one of Charles Lamb's most beautiful and plaintive poems was suggested by this old dialogue the tune is given in Chappelle's popular music page 167 in Kerry's musical century 1738 it is called the old tune of death and the lady the four concluding lines of the present copy of death and the lady are found inscribed on tombstones and picture charts in every part of England they're not contained however in the broadside with which our reprint has been carefully collated death fair lady lay your costly robes aside no longer may you glory in your pride take leave of all your carnal vain delight I'm come to summon you away this night lady what bold attempt is this pray let me know from once you come and whither I must go must I who am a lady stupor bow pale faced visage who art thou death do you not know me well I tell thee then it's I that conquer all the sons of men no pitch of honor for my dart is free my name is death have you not heard of me lady yes I have heard of thee time after time but being in the glory of my prime I did not think you would have called so soon why must my morning sun go down at noon death talk not of noon you may as well be mute this is no time at all for to dispute your riches garments gold and jewels brave houses and lands must all new owners have though thy vain heart to riches was inclined yet thou must die and leave them all behind lady my heart is cold I tremble at the news there's bags of gold if thou wilt me excuse and seize on them and finish thou the strife of those that are weary of their life are there not many bound in prison strong and bitter grief of soul have languished long who could but find the grave a place of rest from all the grief in which they are oppressed besides there's many with a hoary head and palsy joints by which their joys are fled release thou them who sorrows are so great but spare my life to have a longer date death though some by age be full of grief and pain yet their appointed time they must remain I come to none before their warrants sealed and when it is they must submit and yield I take no bribe believe me this is true prepare yourself to go I'm come for you lady death be not so severe let me obtain a little longer time to live in rain fain would I stay if thou my life will spare I have a daughter beautiful and fair I'd live to see her wed whom I adore grant me but this and I will ask no more death this is a slender frivolous excuse I have you fast and will not let you lose to providence for you must go along with me whether you will or no I death command the king to leave his crown and at my feet he lays his scepter down then if to kings I don't this favor give but cut them off can you expect to live beyond the limits of your time and space no I must send you to another place lady you learned doctors now express your skill and let not death of me obtain his will prepare your cordials let me comfort your cold shall fly like chafe before the wind death for bear to call their skill never do they are but mortals here as well as you I give the fatal wound my dart to shore and to far beyond the doctor's skill to cure how freely can you let your riches fly to purchase life rather than yield to die but while you flourish here with all your store you will not give one penny to the poor you would not spare one penny for his sake the lord beheld wherein you did amiss and calls you hence to give account for this lady oh heavy news must I no longer stay how shall I stand in the great judgment day down from her eyes the crystal tears did flow she said none knows what I do undergo upon my bed of sorrow here I lie my carnal life makes me afraid to die my sins alas are many gross and foul oh righteous lord have mercy on my soul and though I do deserve thy righteous frown yet pardon lord and pour a blessing down then with a dying sigh her heart did break and did the pleasures of this world for sake thus may we see the high and mighty fall for cruel death shall no respect at all to anyone of high or low degree great men submit to death as well as we though they are gay their life is but a span a lump of clay so vile a creature's man then happy those whom Christ has made his care who die in the lord and ever blessed are the graves the marketplace were all men meet both rich and poor as well as small and great if life were merchandise the gold goodbye the rich would live the poor alone would die end of the messenger of mortality section 8 of ancient poems ballads and songs of the peasantry of England this liberal arts recording is in the public domain recording by Elaine Conway England England's alarm or the pious Christians really call to repentance for the many aggravating sins too much practiced in our present mournful times as pride drunkenness blasphemous swearing together with the profanation of the Sabbath including with the sin of wantonness and disobedience that upon our hearty sorrow and forsaking the same the Lord may save us for his mercy's sake from the cluster of ornaments alluded to in the ninth verse the following poem we're inclined to fix the date about 1653 the present reprint is from an old broadside without printer's name or date in possession of Mr. J. R. Smith he's sober-minded Christians now draw near labour to learn these pious lessons here for by the same you will be taught to know what is the cause of all our grief and woe we have a God who sits enthroned above he sends as many tokens of his love yet we like disobedient children still deny to yield submission to his will the just command which he upon us lays we must confess we have ten thousand ways for see her men their sins pursue as if they did not fear what God could do behold the wretched sinner void of shame he values not how he blasphemes the name of that good God who gave him life and breath and who can strike him with the dance of death the very little children which we meet amongst the sports and pastimes in the street and curse and swear before they've learned a word of any prayer it is much to be lamented for I fear the same they learn from what they daily hear be careful then and don't instruct them so for fear he proved their dismal overthrow both young and old that dreadful sinful bear the tongue of man was never made to swear but to adore and praise the blessed name by whom alone our dear salvation came pride is another reigning sin likewise let us behold in what a strange disguise young damsels do appear both rich and poor the like was near in any age before what artificial ornaments they were black patches paint and locks of powdered hair likewise in lofty hoops they are arrayed as if they would correct what God had made yet let them know for all those youthful charms they must lie down in death's cold frozen arms oh think on this and raise your thoughts above the sin of pride which you so dearly love likewise the willful sinners that transgress the righteous laws of God by drunkenness they do abuse the creatures which were sent purely for man's refreshing nourishment many diseases death that sin attend but what is worst of all the fatal end let not the pleasures of a quaffing bowl destroy and stupefy thy active soul perhaps the drove you all drunkard overnight may seem to reap the pleasures of delight while for his wine he death in plenty call but oh the sting of conscience after all is like a gnawing worm upon the mind then if you would the peace of conscience find a sober conversation learn with speed for that's the sweetest life that man can lead be careful that thou art not drawn away by foolishness to break the Sabbath day be constant at the pious herds of prayer that thou mayst learn the Christian duties there for tell me wherefore should we carp and care for what we eat drink and what we wear and the meanwhile our fainting souls exclude from that refreshing sweet celestial food yet so it is we by experience find many young wanton gallants seldom mind the church of God but scornfully derived that sacred word by which they must be tried a tavern or an ale house they adore but will not come within the church before they're brought to lodge under a silent tomb and then who knows how dismal is their doom though for a while perhaps they flourish here and seem to scorn the very thoughts of fear yet when they're summoned to resign their breath they can't at brave the bitter stroke of death consider this young gallants whilst you may swift winged time and tide for none will stay and therefore let it be your christian care to serve the Lord and for your death prepare there is another crying sin likewise the old young gallants cast their wanton eyes on painted harlots which they often meet at every creek and corner of the street by whom they are like dismal captives led to their distraction grace and fear is flared till at the length they find themselves betrayed and for that sin most sad examples made then then perhaps in bitter tears they'll cry with wringing hands against their company which did betray them to that dismal state consider this before it is too late likewise sons and daughters far and near honour your loving friends and parents dear let not your disobedience grieve them so nor cause their aged eyes with tears to flow what a heart-breaking sorrow it must be to dear indulgent parents when they see their stubborn children willfully run on against the wholesome laws of God and man oh let these things a deep impression make upon your hearts with speed your sins forsake for true it is the Lord will never bless those children that do willfully transgress now to conclude both young and old I pray reform your sinful lives this very day that God in mercy may his love extend and bring the nation's troubles to an end end of England's Alarm Section 9 of ancient poems ballads and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain smoking, spiritualised the following old poem was long ascribed on apparently sufficient grounds to the reverend Ralph Urskine or as he designated himself Ralph Urskine V.D.M. the peasantry throughout the north of England always call it Urskine's song and not only is his name given as the author in numerous chapbooks but in his volume of gospel sonnets from an early copy of which our version is transcribed the discovery however by Mr. Collier of the first part in a manuscript from the time of James I with the initials J.W. affixed to it has disposed of Urskine's claim to the honour of the entire authorship G.W. is supposed to be George Withers but this is purely conjectural and it is not at all improbable that G.W. really stands for W.G. as it was a common practice of anonymous writers to reverse their initials the history then of the poem seems to be this that the first part as it is now printed originally constituted the whole production being complete in itself that the second part was afterwards added by the reverend Ralph Urskine and that both parts came subsequently to be ascribed to him as his was the only name published in connection with the song the reverend Ralph Urskine was born was Northumberland on the 15th March 1685 he was one of the 33 children of Ralph Urskine of Shieldfield a family of repute descended from the ancient house of Mar he was educated at the college in Edinburgh obtained his license to preach in June 1709 and was ordained on an unanimous invitation over the church at Dunfermline in August 1711 he was twice married in 1714 to Margaret Dewar daughter of the Laird of Lassidy by whom he had five sons and five daughters all of whom died in the prime of life and in 1732 to Margaret daughter of Mr. Simpson of Edinburgh by whom he had four sons one of whom with his wife survived him he died in November 1752 Urskine was the author of a great number of sermons a paraphrase on the canticles scripture songs a treatise on mental images and gospel sonnets smoking spiritualized is, at the present day a standard publication with modern ballad printers but their copies are exceedingly corrupt many versions and paraphrases of the song exist several are referred to in notes and queries and amongst them a broadside of the date of 1670 and another dated 1672 both printed before Urskine was born presenting different readings of the first part or original poem in both of these the birthing or refrain differs from that of our copy by the employment of the expression drink tobacco instead of smoke tobacco the former was the ancient term for drawing in the smoke swallowing it and omitting it through the nostrils a correspondent of notes and queries says that the natives of India to this day use the phrase hookah pu'eh to drink the hookah part one this Indian weed now withered quite though green at noon cut down at night shows thy decay all flesh is hay thus think and smoke tobacco the pipe so lily like and weak does thy mortal state bespeak thou artensut gone with a touch thus think and smoke tobacco and when the smoke ascends on high then thou beholts the vanity of worldly stuff gone with a puff thus think and smoke tobacco and when the pipe grows foul within think on thy soul defiled with sin for then the fire it does require thus think and smoke tobacco and cease the ashes cast away then to thyself thou mayest say that to the dust return thou must thus think and smoke tobacco part two was this small plant for thee cut down so was the plant of great renown which mercy sends for nobler ends thus think and smoke tobacco doth juice medicinal proceed from such a naughty foreign weed then what's the power of Jesse's flower thus think and smoke tobacco the promise like the pipe in lays and by the mouth of faith conveys what virtue flows from Sharon's rose thus think and smoke tobacco in vain the unlighted pipe you blow your pains in outward means are so till heavenly fire your heart inspire thus think and smoke tobacco the smoke like a burning incense towers so should a praying heart of yours with ardent cries surmount the skies thus think and smoke tobacco end of smoking spiritualized recording by Stephen Harvey section ten of ancient poems ballads and songs of the peasantry of England this Librivolts recording is in the public domain recording by Elaine Conway England the Masonic hymn this is a very ancient production though given from a modern copy which has always been popular amongst the poor brethren of the mystic tie the late Henry O'Brien A.B. quotes the seventh verse in his essay on the round towers of Ireland he generally had a common copy of the hymn in his pocket and on meeting with any of his antiquarian friends who were not masons was in the habit of thrusting it into their hands and telling them that if they understood the mystic illusions it contained they would be in possession of a key which would unlock the pyramids of Egypt the tune to the hymn is peculiar to it and is of a plaintive and solemn character Camel you freemasons that dwell around the globe that were the badge of innocence the royal robe which Noah he did wear when the ark he stood when the world was destroyed by a deluding flood Noah he was virtuous in the sight of the Lord he loved a freemason that kept the secret word for he built the ark had he planted the first vine now his soul in heaven like an angel doth shine once I was blind then up to Jerusalem I took my flight I was led by the evangelist through a wilderness of care you may see by the sign and the badge that I wear on the thirteenth rose the ark let us join hand in hand for the Lord spake to Moses by water and by land unto the pleasant river whereby Eden it did ring and Eve tempted Adam by the serpent of sin when I think of Moses it makes me to blush all on mount Horeb where I saw the burning bush my shoes I'll throw off under my staff I'll cast away and I'll wander like a pilgrim unto my dying day when I think of Aaron it makes me to weep likewise of the Virgin Mary who lay at our Saviour's feet it was in the garden of Gethsemane repent my dearest brethren before it is too late I thought I sought wild dazzling lights which put me in surprise engaging all around me I heard a dismal noise the serpent passered by me which fell unto the ground with great joy and comfort the secret word I found some say it is lost but surely it is found and so is our Saviour it is known to all around and search all the scriptures over and there it will be shown the tree that will bear no fruit must be cut down Abraham was a man well beloved by the Lord he was true to be found in great Jehovah's word he stretched forth his hand and took the knife to slay his son an angel appearing said the Lord's will be done oh Abraham oh Abraham lay no hand upon the lad he sent him unto thee to make thy heart glad thy seed shall increase like stars in the sky and thy soul into heaven like Gabriel shall fly oh never, oh never will I hear an orphan cry nor yet a gentle virgin until the day I die you wandering Jews that travel the wide world round may knock at the door where truth is to be found often against the tugs and infidels we fight to let the wandering world know we're in the right for in heaven there's a lodge and Saint Peter keeps the door and none can enter in but those atop your Saint Peter he opened and so we entered in into the holy seat secure it is all free from sin Saint Peter he opened and so we entered there and the glory of the temple no man can compare end of the Masonic hymn section 11 of ancient poems, ballads, and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain God speed the plow and bless the cornmow a dialogue between the husband men and serving men the tune is I am the Duke of Norfolk this ancient dialogue though in a somewhat altered form said the ensuing poem has long been used at country merry makings it is transcribed from a black letter copy in the third volume of the Roxburgh collection apparently one of the imprints of Peter Brooksby which would make the composition of the 15th century there are several dialogues of a similar character argument the serving man the plowman would invite to leave his calling and to take delight but he to that by no means will agree lest he thereby should come to beggary he makes it plain appear a country life to far excel and so they end the strife my noble friends give ear if you love to hear I'll tell you as fast as I can a story very true then mark what doth ensue concerning of a husband man a serving man did meet a husband man in the street and thus unto him began serving men I pray you to tell me of what calling you be or if you be a serving man husband men quote he my brother dear the coast I mean to clear and the truth I shall understand I in no way to stain but this I tell you plain I am an honest husband man serving men if a husband man you be then come along with be I'll help you as soon as I can unto a gallant place where in a little space you shall be a serving man husband man sir for your diligence I give you many thanks these things I receive at your hand I pray you to me show whereby that I may know what pleasures have a serving man serving man a serving man have pleasure which passeth time and measure when the hawk on his fist doth stand his hood and his verals brave and other things we have which yield joy to a serving man husband man my pleasure is more than that to see my oxen fat and to prosper well under my hand and therefore I do mean with my horse and with my team to keep myself a husband man serving man oh it is a gallant thing in the prime time of the spring to hear the huntsman now and then his bugle for to blow and the hounds run all a row this is pleasure for a serving man to hear the beagle cry and to see the falcon fly and the hare trip or the plane and the huntsman and the hound make hill and dale rebound this is pleasure for a serving man husband man it is pleasure to you know to see the corn to grow and to grow so well on the land the plowing and the sowing the reaping and the mowing yield pleasure to the husband man serving man at our table you may eat all sorts of dainty meat honey goose capon and swan and with lords and ladies fine you may drink beer ale and wine this is pleasure for a serving man husband man while you eat goose and capon I'll feed on beef and bacon and piece of hard cheese now and then we pudding have and sauce always ready in the house which contents the honest husband man serving man at the court you may have your garments fine and brave and cloak with gold lace laid upon a shirt white as milk and wrought with finest silk that's pleasure for a serving man husband man such proud and costly gear is not for us to wear amongst the briars and brambles many a one a good strong russet coat and that your need a groat will suffice the husband man a proverb here I tell which likes my humor well and remember it well I can if a courtier be too bold he'll want when he is old then farewell the serving man serving man it needs must be confessed that your calling is the best no longer discourse with you I can but henceforth I will pray by night and by day heaven bless the honest husband man and of god speed the plow and bless the corn mow recorded for LibriVox.org by Rita Louise section 12 of ancient poems, ballads, and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain a dialogue between the husband man and the serving man this traditional version of the preceding ancient dialogue has long been popular at country festivals at a harvest home feast at Selborne in Hampshire in 1836 we heard it recited by two countrymen who gave it with considerable humor and dramatic effect it was delivered in a sort of chant or recitative Davies Gilbert published a very similar copy in his ancient Christmas carols in the modern printed editions most identical with ours the term servant man has been substituted for the more ancient designation serving man well met my brother friend all at this highway end so simple all alone as you can I pray you tell to me what may your calling be are you not a serving man husband man no no my brother dear what makes you to inquire my hand indeed I shall not feign but I will tell you plain I am a downright husband man serving man if a husband man you be then go along with me and quickly you shall see out of hand how in a little space I will help you to a place where you may be a serving man husband man kind sir I turn you thanks for your intelligence see that your hand but something pray now show that first I may plainly know the pleasures of a serving man serving man why a serving man has pleasure beyond all sort of measure with his hawk on his fist as he does stand for the game that he does kill and the meat that does him fill are pleasures for the serving man husband man my oxen fat and a good stock of hay by them stand my plowing and my sewing my reaping and my mowing are pleasures for the husband man serving man why it is a gallant thing to ride out with a king with a lore duke or any such man to hear the horns to blow and see the hounds all in a row that is pleasure for the serving man husband man my pleasures more I know to see my corn to grow so thriving all over my land and therefore I do mean with my plowing with my team to keep myself a husband man serving man why the diet that we eat is the choicest of all meat such as pig goose capon and swan our pastry is so vine we drink sugar in our wine that is living serving man husband man talk not of goose nor capon give me good beef or bacon and good bread and cheese now at hand with pudding brawn and sauce all in a farmer's house that is living for the husband man serving man why the clothing that we wear is delicate and rare with our coat lace buckles and band our shirts are white as milk and our stockings silk that is clothing for a serving man husband man but I value not a hair your delicate fine wear such as gold is laced upon give me a good gray coat and in my purse a groat that is clothing for the husband man serving man kind sir it would be bad if none could be had those tables for to wait upon there is no Lord Duke nor square nor member for the shire can do without a serving man husband man but Jack it would be worse if there was none of us to follow the plowing of the land there is neither king lord nor square nor member for the shire can do without the husband man serving man kind sir I must confess that I humbly protest I will give you the uppermost hand although your labor is painful it is so very gainful I wish I were a husband man husband man so come now let us all both great as well as small pray for the grain of our land and let us whatsoever do all our best endeavor for to maintain a good husband man and of a dialogue between the husband man and the serving man read for LibriVox by Rita Louise 14 of ancient poems ballads and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain the Catholic the following ingenious production has been copied literally from a broadside posted against the parlor wall of a country in in Gloucestershire the verses are susceptible of two interpretations being Catholic if read in the columns but Protestant if read across I hold as faith what Rome's church sayeth where the king's head the flocks misled where the altars dressed the people's blessed he's but an ass who shuns the mass what England's church allows my conscience disavows that church can have no shame that holds the pope supreme there's service scarce divine with table bread and wine he's but an ass who the communion flies is Catholic and wise I hold as faith what England's church allows what Rome's church sayeth my conscience disavows where the king's head that church can have no shame the flocks misled that holds the pope supreme where the altars dressed there's service scarce divine the people's blessed with table bread and wine he's but an ass who the communion flies who shuns the mass is Catholic and wise London printed for George Eversden at the sign of the maiden head in St. Paul's churchyard 1655 come privilegio end of the Catholic read for LibriVox.org by Rita Louise section 14 of ancient poems, ballads, and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain the three knights traditional the three knights was first printed by the late Davies Gilbert in the appendix to his work on Christmas carols Mr. Gilbert thought that some verses were wanting after the 8th stanza but we entertain a different opinion the conjectural emendation made in the 9th verse the substitution of far for four seems to render the ballad perfect the ballad is still popular amongst the peasantry in the west of England the tune is given by Gilbert the refrain in the second and fourth lines printed with the first verse should be repeated in recitation in every verse there did three knights come from the west with the high in the lily-o and these three knights courted one lady as the rose was so sweetly blown the first knight came was all in white with the high in the lily-o, and asked of her if she'd be his delight as the rose was so sweetly blown the next knight came was all in green with the high in the lily-o and asked of her if she'd be his queen as the rose was sweetly blown. The third night came was all in red, with the high in the lily-o, and asked of her if she would wed, as the rose was so sweetly blown. Then have you asked of my father, dear, with the high in the lily-o? Likewise of her who did me bear, as the rose was so sweetly blown. And have you asked of my brother, John, with the high in the lily-o, and also of my sister Ann, as the rose was so sweetly blown? Yes, I've asked of your father, dear, with the high in the lily-o. Likewise of her who did you bear, as the rose was so sweetly blown. And I've asked of your sister Ann, with the high in the lily-o, but I've not asked of your brother, John, as the rose was so sweetly blown. Far on the road as they rode along, with the high in the lily-o. There did they meet with her brother, John, as the rose was so sweetly blown. She's stupid low to kiss him sweet, with the high in the lily-o. He to her heart did a dagger meet, as the rose was so sweetly blown. Right on, right on, cried the serving man, with the high in the lily-o. Me thinks you're bride, she looks wondrous one, as the rose was so sweetly blown. I wish I were on yonder style, with the high in the lily-o, for there I would sit and bleed a while, as the rose was so sweetly blown. I wish I were on yonder hill, with the high in the lily-o. There I delight and make my will, as the rose was so sweetly blown. What would you give to your father, dear, with the high in the lily-o? The gallant steed which doth me bear, as the rose was so sweetly blown. What would you give to your mother, dear, with the high in the lily-o? My wedding shift, which I do wear, as the rose was so sweetly blown. But she must wash it very clean, with the high in the lily-o, for my heart's blood sticks in every seam, as the rose was so sweetly blown. What would you give to your sister, Anne, with the high in the lily-o? My gay gold ring and my feathered fan, as the rose was so sweetly blown. What would you give to your brother, John, with the high in the lily-o? A rope and a gallows to hang him on, as the rose was so sweetly blown. What would you give to your brother, John's wife, with the high in the lily-o? A widow's weeds and a quiet life, as the rose was so sweetly blown. CHOING HOW HIS Daughter Was Married To A Knight, And Had Three Thousand Pound To Her Portion. Percy's copy of The Beggar's Daughter of Bednell Green is known to be very incorrect. Besides many alterations and improvements, which it received at the hands of the bishop, it contains no less than eight stanzas written by Robert Doddsley, the author of The Economy of Human Life. So far as poetry is concerned, there cannot be a question that the version in the reliquary is far superior to the original, which is still a popular favorite, and a correct copy of which is now given, as it appears in all the common broadside editions that have been printed from 1672 to the present time. Although the original copies have all perished, the ballad has been very satisfactorily proved by Percy to have been written in the reign of Elizabeth. The present reprint is from a modern copy, carefully collated with one in the Bagford collection, entitled, The Rarest Ballad That Ever Was Seen of The Blind Beggar's Daughter of Bednell Green. The imprint to it is, printed by and for W. Anley, and are to be sold by C. Bates at the sign of the Sun and Bible in Pie Corner. The very antiquated orthography adopted in some editions does not rest on any authority, for two tunes to The Blind Beggar see popular music. Part 1 This songs of a beggar who long lost his sight, and had a fair daughter, most pleasant and bright, and many a gallant brave suitor had she, and none was so comely as Pretty Bessie. And though she was of complexion most fair, and seeing she was but a beggar his heir, of ancient housekeepers despised was she, whose sons came as suitors to Pretty Bessie. Wherefore in great sorrow Fair Bessie did say, Good Father and Mother, let me now go away, to seek out my fortune whatever it be, this suit then was granted to Pretty Bessie. This Bessie that was of a beauty most bright, they clad in gray russet, and late in the night, from Father and Mother alone parted she, who sighed and sobbed for Pretty Bessie. She went till she came to Stratford at Bow, then she know not with her or which way to go. With tears she lamented her sad destiny, so sad and so heavy was Pretty Bessie. She kept on her journey until it was day, and went unto Rumpford along the highway, and at the king's arms entertained was she, so fair and well favoured was Pretty Bessie. She had not been there one month at an end, but master and mistress and all was her friend, and every brave gallant that once did her see was straight way in love with Pretty Bessie. Great gifts they did send her of silver and gold, and in their songs daily her love they extolled. Her beauty was blazed in every decree, so fair and so comely was Pretty Bessie. The young men of Rumpford in her had their joy, she showed herself courteous but never too coy, and at their commandment still she would be, so fair and so comely was Pretty Bessie. Four suitors at once unto her did go, they craved her favour, but still she said no. I would not have gentlemen marry with me, yet ever they honoured Pretty Bessie. Now one of them was a gallant young knight, and he came unto her disguised in the night, the second a gentleman of high degree who would ensuade for Pretty Bessie. A merchant of London whose wealth was not small, was then the third suitor and proper with all. Her master's own son the fourth man must be, who swore he would die for Pretty Bessie. If that thou wilt marry with me, quoth the night, I'll make thee a lady with joy and delight. My heart is enthralled in thy fair beauty. Then grant me thy favour, my Pretty Bessie. The gentleman said, Come marry with me, and silks and envelop it, my Bessie shall be. My heart lies distracted. O hear me, quoth he, and grant me thy love, my dear Pretty Bessie. Let me be thy husband, the merchant did say, Thou shalt live in London most gallant and gay. My ships shall bring home rich jewels for thee, and I will forever love Pretty Bessie. Then Bessie she sighed, and thus she did say, My father and mother, I mean to obey. First get their good will, and be faithful to me, and you shall enjoy your dear Pretty Bessie. To every one of them that answer she made, therefore unto her they joyfully said, This thing to fulfil we all now agree, but where dwells thy father, my Pretty Bessie? My father, quoth she, is soon to be seen, the silly blind beggar of Bednell Green, that daily sits begging for charity. He is the kind father of Pretty Bessie. His marks and his token are known full well. He always is led by a dog and a bell. A poor, silly old man, God knoweth, is he, yet he is the true father of Pretty Bessie. Nay, nay, quoth the merchant, Thou art not for me. She, quoth the enholder, my wife shall not be. I loathe, said the gentleman, a beggar's degree. Therefore now farewell, my Pretty Bessie. Why then, quoth the night, have better or worse, I weigh not true love by the weight of the purse, and beauty is beauty in every degree. Then welcome to me, my dear Pretty Bessie. With thee to thy father, forthwith I will go. Nay, for bear, quoth his kinsman, it must not be so. A poor beggar's daughter, a lady, shan't be. Then take thy adieu of thy Pretty Bessie. As soon then as it was break of the day, the night had from Rumpford stole Bessie away. The young men of Rumpford, so sick as may be, wrote after to fetch again Pretty Bessie. As swift as the wind to ride they were seen, until they came near unto bed no green, and as the night layed most courteously, they fought against him for Pretty Bessie. But rescue came presently over the plain, or else the night there for his love had been slain. With the fray being ended they straightway did see his kinsman come railing at Pretty Bessie. Then bespoke the blind beggar, although I be poor, real not against my child at my own door, though she be not decked in velvet and pearl, yet I will drop angels with thee for my girl. And then if my gold should better her birth, and equal the gold you lay on the earth, then neither rail you, nor grudge you to see the blind beggar's daughter a lady to be. But first I will hear, and have it well known, the gold that you drop it shall be all your own. With that they replied, contented we be, then here's, quote the beggar, for Pretty Bessie. With that an angel he dropped on the ground, and dropped it in angels full three thousand pound, and oftentimes it proved most plain for the gentleman's one beggar dropped twain. So that the whole place wherein they did sit with gold was covered, every wit. The gentleman, having dropped all his store, said, Beggar, your handhold, for I have no more. Thou hast fulfilled thy promise aright, then marry my girl, quote he, to the night, and then, quote he, I will throw you down, and hundred pound more, to buy her a down. The gentleman all, who his treasure had seen, admired the beggar of Bednell Green, and those that had been her suitors before, their tender flesh, for anger they tore. Thus was the Fair Bessie match ed to a night, and made a lady in others despite, a fairer lady there never was seen than the blind beggar's daughter of Bednell Green. But of her sumptuous marriage and feast, and what fine lords and ladies their press, the second part shall set forth to your sight, with marvellous pleasure, and wished for delight, of a blind beggar's daughter so bright, that late was betrothed to a young night. All the whole discourse therefore you may see, but now comes the wedding of Pretty Bessie. It was in a gallant palace most brave, adorned with all the cost they could have. This wedding it was kept most sumptuously, and all for the love of Pretty Bessie. And all kind of dainties and delicates sweet was brought to their banquet as it was thought meat, partridge and plover and venison most free, against the brave wedding of Pretty Bessie. The wedding through England was spread by report, so that a great number there too did resort, of nobles and gentiles of every degree, and all for the fame of Pretty Bessie. To church then away went this gallant young night, his bride followed after an angel most bright, with troops of ladies the like was near seen, as went with sweet Bessie of Bednole Green. This wedding being solemnized then, with music performed by skillfulest men, the nobles and gentlemen down at the side, each one beholding the beautiful bride. But after the sumptuous dinner was done, to talk and to reason a number begun, and of the blind beggar's daughter most bright, and what with his daughter he gave to the night. Then spoke the nobles much marvel have we, this jolly blind beggar we cannot yet see. My Lord's, quote the bride, my father so base, is lost with his presence these states to disgrace. The praise of a woman in question to bring before her own face is a flattering thing. But we think thy father's baseness, quote they, might by thy beauty be clean put away. They know sooner this pleasant word spoke, but in comes the beggar in a silken cloak, a velvet cap and a feather-head he, and now a musician forsooth he would be. And being led in from catching of harm, he had a dainty lute under his arm, said, please you to hear any music of me, a song I will sing you, of pretty Bessie. With that his lute he twang'd straight way, and thereon began most sweetly to play, and after a lesson was played to her three, he strained out this song most delicately. A beggar's daughter did dwell on a green, who for her beauty may well be a queen, a blithe bunny-last and dainty was she, and many one called her pretty Bessie. Her father he had no goods nor no lands, but begged for a penny all day with his hands, and yet for her marriage gave thousands three, yet still he hath somewhat for pretty Bessie. And here, if any one do her disdain, her father is ready with might and with main, to prove she has come of noble degree. Therefore let none flout at my pretty Bessie. With that the lords and the company round, with a hearty laughter, were ready to swound. At last said the lords, full well we may see, the bride and the bridegrooms beholden to thee. With that the fair bride all blushing did rise, with crystal water all in her bright eyes. Pardon my father, brave nobles, quoth she, that through blind affection thus dotes upon me. If this be thy father the nobles did say, well may he be proud of this happy day. Yet by his countenance well may we see, his birth with his fortune could never agree. And therefore, blind beggar, we pray thee beret, and look to us then the truth thou dost say, thy birth and thy parentage, what it may be. E'en for the love thou barest pretty Bessie. Then give me leave ye gentles each one, a song to sing, and then I'll be gone. And if that I do not win good report, then do not give me one groat for my sport. When first our king his fame did advance, and sought his title in delicate France, and many places great perils past he, but then was not born my pretty Bessie. And at those wars went over to fight, many a brave duke, a lord and a knight, and with them young Monford of courage so free, but then was not born my pretty Bessie. And there did young Monford with a blow on the face lose both his eyes in a very short space. His life had been gone away with his sight had not a young woman gone forth in the night. Among the said men her fancy did move to search and to seek for her own true love, who seeing young Monford there gasping to die she save it his life through her charity. And then all our victuals and beggars attire at the hands of good people we then did require, at last into England as now it is seen we came and remain it in bed no green. And thus we have liv'd in fortunes despite though poor yet contented with humble delight, and in my old years a comfort to me God sent me a daughter called pretty Bessie. And thus he nobles my song I do end, hoping by the same no man to offend. Full forty long winters thus I have been a silly blind beggar of bed no green. Now when the company every one did hear the strange tale he told in his song they were amazed as well they might be both at the blind beggar and pretty Bessie, with that the fair bride they all did embrace saying you are come of an honourable race thy father likewise is of high degree and thou art right worthy a lady to be. Thus was the feast ended with joy and delight a happy bridegroom was made the young knight who lived in great joy and felicity with his fair lady dear pretty Bessie. End of The Blind Beggar of Bed No Green Levervox recording by Rita Louise Ann Arbor, Michigan 2019. Section 16 of ancient poems, ballads and songs of the peasantry of England. This Levervox recording is in the public domain. The Bold Peddler and Robin Hood. This ballad is of considerable antiquity and no doubt much older than some of those inserted in the common garlands. It appears to have escaped the notice of Ritz and Purse and other collectors of Robin Hood ballads. The tune is given in popular music. An aged woman in Bermond's Esari from whose oral recitation the present version was taken down said that she had often heard her mother sing it and that it was never in print. But we have since met with several common store copies. The subject is the same as that of the old ballad called Robin Hood Newly Revived or the Meeting and Fighting with his cousin Scarlett. Their chance to be a Peddler Bold. A Peddler Bold their chance to be. He rolled his pack all on his back as he came tripping or the Lee. Down a down a down a down a down a down a down a down. By chance he met two troublesome blades. Two troublesome blades they chance to be. One of them was Bold Robin Hood and the other was Little John so free. Oh Peddler Peddler what's in the pack come speed a Lee and tell to me. I've several suits of the gay green silks and silken bow strings two or three. If you several suits of the gay green silk and silken bow strings two or three then by my body cries Little John one half your pack shall belong to me. Oh nay oh nay says the Peddler Bold oh nay oh nay that never can be. For there's never a man from Fair Nottingham can take one half my pack from me. Then the Peddler pulled off his pack and put it a little below his knee saying if you do move me one perch from this my pack and all shall gang with thee. Then Little John he drew his sword and the Peddler by his pack did stand they fought until they both did sweat till he cried Peddler pray hold your hand. Then Robin Hood he was standing by and he did laugh most heartily saying I could find a man of smaller scale could thrash the Peddler and also thee. Go you try Master says Little John go you try Master most speedily or by my body says Little John I am sure this night you will not know me. Then Robin Hood he drew his sword and the Peddler by his pack did stand they fought till the blood in streams did flow till he cried Peddler pray hold your hand. Peddler Peddler what is thy name come speedily and tell to me my name my name I near will tell till both your names you have told to me. The one of us is Bold Robin Hood and the other Little John so free now says the Peddler it lays my good will whether my name I choose to tell thee. I am gamble gold of the gay green woods and travelled far beyond the sea for killing a man in my father's land from my country I was forced to flee. If your gamble gold of the gay green woods and travelled far beyond the sea you are my mother's own sister's son what nearer cousins then can we be. They sheathed their swords with friendly words so merrily did they agree and they went to a tavern and there they dined and bottles crept most merrily. End of The Bold Peddler and Robin Hood Recording by Alan Mapstone in Oxford, England Section 17 of ancient poems, ballads and songs of the peasantry of England this LibriVox recording is in the public domain The Outlandish Night This is the common English stall copy of a ballad of which there are a variety of versions for an account of which and of the presumed origin of the story the reader is referred to the notes on the water o'weary's well in the Scottish traditional versions of ancient ballads published by the Percy Society by the term Outlandish is signified an inhabitant of that portion of the border which was formerly known by the name of the debatable land a district which though claimed by both England and Scotland could not be said to belong to either country the people on each side of the border provide the term Outlandish to the debatable residents the tune to the Outlandish Night has never been printed it is peculiar to the ballad and from its popularity is well known an Outlandish Night came from the Northlands and he came a wooing to me he told me he'd take me unto the Northlands and there he would marry me come fetch me some of your father's gold and some of your mother's fee and two of the best nags out of the stable where they stand thirty and three she fetched him some of her father's gold and some of the mother's fee and two of the best nags out of the stable where they stood thirty and three she mounted her on her milk-white steed he on the dapple gray they rode till they came unto the seaside three hours before it was day light off, light off, thy milk-white steed and deliver it unto me six pretty maids have I drown it here and thou the seventh shall be pull off, pull off, thy silken gown and deliver it unto me me thinks it looks too rich and too gay to rot in the salt sea pull off, pull off, thy silken stays and deliver them unto me me thinks they are too fine and gay to rot in the salt sea pull off, pull off, thy hull into smock and deliver it unto me me thinks it looks too rich and gay to rot in the salt sea if I must pull off my hull in smock pray turn thy back unto me for it is not fitting that such a ruffian a naked woman should see he turned his back towards her and viewed the leaves so green she catched him round the middle so small and tumbled him into the stream he'd drop it high and he'd drop it low until he came to the side catch hold of my hand, my pretty maiden and I will make you a bride lie there, lie there, you false-hearted man lie there instead of me six pretty maids have you drown it here and the seventh has drown it thee she mounted on her milk-white steed and led the dapple gray she rode till she came to her own father's hall three hours before it was day the parrot, being in the window so high hearing the lady did say I'm afraid that some ruffian has led you astray that you have tarried so long away don't prittle, don't prattle, my pretty parrot nor tell no tales of me thy cage shall be made of the glittering gold although it is made of a tree the king, being in the chamber so high and hearing the parrot did say what ails you, what ails you, my pretty parrot that you prattle so long before day it's no laughing matter, the parrot did say but so loudly I call unto thee for the cats have got into the window so high and I'm afraid they will have me well turned, well turned, my pretty parrot well turned, well turned for me thy cage shall be made of the glittering gold and the door of the best ivory end of the outlandish night Read for LibriVox.org by Rita Louise Section 18 of ancient poems ballads and songs of the peasantry of England This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording by Elaine Conway, England Lord Delaware Traditional This interesting traditional ballad was first published by Mr Thomas Lyle in his ancient ballads and songs London 1827 We have not as yet, says Mr Lyle been able to trace out the historical instant upon which this ballad appears to have been founded yet those curious in such matters may consult if they list proceedings and debates in the House of Commons for 1621 and 1662 where they will find that some stormy debating in these several years has been agitated in Parliament regarding the Cornwalls which bear pretty close upon the leading features of the ballad does not the ballad however belong to a much earlier period a description of the combat the presence of heralds the wearing of armour etc. justify the conjecture for Delaware ought we not to read Delaware and it's not Sir Thomas de la Mer the hero the de la Mer who in the reign of Edward III AD 1377 was Speaker of the House of Commons all historians are agreed in representing him as a person using great freedom of speech and which indeed he carried to such an extent has to endanger his personal liberty as bearing somewhat upon the subject of the ballad it may be observed that de la Mer was a great advocate of popular rights and particularly protested against the inhabitants of England being subject to pervance asserting that if the royal revenue was faithfully administered there would be no necessity for laying burdens on the people in the subsequent reign of Richard II de la Mer was a prominent character and though history is silent on the subject it is not improbable that such a man might even in the royal presence had offended the rights of the poor and spoken in extenuation of the agrarian insurrectionary movements which were then so prevalent and so alarming on the hypothesis of de la Mer being the hero there are other incidents in the tale which cannot be reconciled with history such as the title given to de la Mer is certainly was never ennobled nor can we ascertain that he was ever mixed up in any duel nor does it appear clear who can be meant by the Welsh Lord the brave Duke of Devonshire that Duke done not having been created till 1694 and no nobleman having derived any title whatever from Devonshire provisely to 1618 when Baron Cavendish of Hardwick was created the first Earl of Devonshire we may therefore assume that for Devonshire ought to be asserted the name of some other county or place strict historical accuracy is however hardly to be expected in any ballad particularly in one which like the present has evidently been corrupted in floating down the stream of time there is only one quarrel recorded at the supposed period of our tale as having taken place patwixt to nobleman and which resulted in a hostile meeting vis that wherein the belligerent parties were the Duke of Arafod who might be a ballad monger be deemed a Welsh Lord and the Duke of Norfolk this was in the reign of which second no fight however took place owing to the interference of the king a minstrel author may have had rather confused historical ideas so mixed up certain passages in de la maire's history with this squabble and we are strongly inclined to suspect that search is the case and that it will be found the real clue to the story Vaid Hume's History of England Chapter 17 AD 1398 Lael acknowledges that he has taken some liberties with the all version but does not state what they were beyond that they consisted merely in smoothing down would that he had left it in the rough the last verse has every appearance of being a perciful it looks like one of those benedictory verses with which minstrels were and still are in the habit of concluding their songs Lael says the tune is pleasing and peculiar to the ballad a homely version presenting only trivial variations on that it Mr. Lael is still printed and sung in the parliament house great rout has been there betwixt our good king and the Lord Delaware says Lord Delaware to his majesty fall soon will it please you my liege to grant me a boon what's your boon says the king now let me understand it's give me all the poor men who starving in this land and without delay I'll hide me to Lincolnshire to sow hemp seed and flax seed and hang them all there for with hemp and cord it's better to stop each poor man's breath than with famine you should see your subject star to death up starts a Dutch lord who to Delaware did say that I deserves to be stabbed then he turns himself away that I deserves to be stabbed and the dogs have thine ears for insulting our king in this parliament of peers up sprang a Welsh Lord the brave Duke of Doventure in young Delaware's defence I'll fight the Dutch lord my sigh for he is in the right and I'll make it so appear him I dare to single combat for insulting Delaware a stage were soon erected and combat they went for to kill or to be killed it was either's full intent to the very first flourish when the heralds gave command the sword of brave Devonshire went backward on his hand in suspense he paused a while scanned his foe before he strike then against the king's armour his bent sword he break then he sprang from the stage to a soldier in the ring saying lend your sword that to an end this tragedy we bring though he's fighting me in armour while I am fighting bear even more than this adventure for young Lord Delaware leaping back on the stage sword to Buckler now resounds till he left the Dutch lord a bleeding in his wounds the seeing crying the king to his guards without delay call Devonshire down take the dead man away no says brave Devonshire I fought him as a man since he's dead I will keep the trophies I have won for you fought me in your armour while I fought him bear and the same you must win back my leash if ever you then wear God bless the church of England may it prosper on each hand and also every poor man now starving in this land and while I pray success may crown our king upon his throne I wish that every poor man may long enjoy his own End of Lord Delaware