Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) (62 page)

BOOK: Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)
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The Wife of Usher’s Well

 

Traditional Ballads

 

THERE lived a wife at Usher’s Well,
 
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
 
And sent them oer the sea.

 

They hadna been a week from her,
  
5
 
A week but barely ane,
Whan word came to the carline wife
 
That her three sons were gane.

 

They hadna been a week from her,
 
A week but barely three,
  
10
Whan word came to the carlin wife
 
That her sons she’d never see.

 

“I wish the wind may never cease,
 
Nor fashes in the flood,
Till my three sons come hame to me,
  
15
 
In earthly flesh and blood.”

 

It fell about the Martinmass,
 
When nights are lang and mirk.
The carlin wife’s three sons came hame,
 
And their hats were o the birk.
  
20

 

It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
 
Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o Paradise,
 
That birk grew fair eneugh.

 

“Blow up the fire, my maidens,
  
25
 
Bring water from the well;
For a’ my house shall feast this night,
 
Since my three sons are well.”

 

And she has made to them a bed,
 
She’s made it large and wide,
  
30
And she’s taen her mantle her about,
 
Sat down at the bed-side.

 

Up then crew the red, red cock,
 
And up and crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said,
  
35
 
“’Tis time we were away.”

 

The cock he hadna crawd but once,
 
And clappd his wings at a’,
When the youngest to the eldest said,
 
“Brother, we must awa.”
  
40

 

“The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,
 
The channerin worm doth chide;
Gin we be mist out o our place,
 
A sair pain we maun bide.

 

“Lie still, lie still but a little wee while,
  
45
 
Lie still but if we may;
Gin my mother should miss us when she wakes,
 
She’ll go mad ere it be day.”

 

“Faer ye weel, my mother dear!
 
Fareweel to barn and byre!
  
50
And fare ye weel, the bonny lass
 
That kindles my mother’s fire!”

 

List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

 

List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

 

Hugh of Lincoln

 

Traditional Ballads

 

FOUR and twenty bonny boys
 
Were playing at the ba,
And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh,
 
And he playd oer them a’.

 

He kicked the ba with his right foot,
  
5
 
And catchd it wi his knee,
And throuch-and-thro the Jew’s window
 
He gard the bonny ba flee.

 

He’s doen him to the Jew’s castell,
 
And walkd it round about;
  
10
And there he saw the Jew’s daughter,
 
At the window looking out.

 

“Throw down the ba, ye Jew’s daughter,
 
Throw down the ba to me!”
“Never a bit,” says the Jew’s daughter,
  
15
 
“Till up to me come ye.”

 

“How will I come up? How can I come up?
 
How can I come to thee?
For as ye did to my auld father,
 
The same ye’ll do me.”
  
20

 

She’s gane till her father’s garden,
 
And pu’d an apple red and green;
’Twas a’ to wyle him sweet Sir Hugh,
 
And to entice him in.

 

She’s led him in through ae dark door,
  
25
 
And sae has she thro nine;
She’s laid him on a dressing-table,
 
And stickit him like a swine.

 

And first came out the thick, thick blood,
 
And syne came out the thin,
  
30
And syne came out the bonny heart’s blood;
 
There was nae mair within.

 

She’s rowd him in a cake o lead,
 
Bade him lie still and sleep;
She’s thrown him in Our Lady’s draw-well,
  
35
 
Was fifty fathom deep.

 

When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
 
And a’ the bairns came hame,
When every lady gat hame her son,
 
The Lady Maisry gat nane.
  
40

 

She’s taen her mantle her about,
 
Her coffer by the hand,
And she’s gane out to seek her son,
 
And wanderd oer the land.

 

She’s doen her to the Jew’s castell,
  
45
 
Where a’ were fast asleep:
“Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh,
 
I pray you to me speak.”

 

She’s doen her to the Jew’s garden,
 
Thought he had been gathering fruit:
  
50
“Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh,
 
I pray you to me speak.”

 

She heard Our Lady’s deep draw-well,
 
Was fifty fathom deep:
“Whareer ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh,
  
55
 
I pray you to me speak.”

 

“Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,
 
Prepare my winding sheet,
And at the back o merry Lincoln
 
The morn I will you meet.”
  
60

 

Now Lady Maisry is gane hame,
 
Made him a winding sheet,
And at the back o merry Lincoln
 
The dead corpse did her meet.

 

And a’ the bells o merry Lincoln
  
65
 
Without men’s hands were rung,
And a’ the books o merry Lincoln
 
Were read without man’s tongue,
And neer was such a burial
 
Sin Adam’s days begun.
  
70

 

List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

 

List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

 

Young Bicham

 

Traditional Ballads

 

IN London city was Bicham born,
 
He longd strange countries for to see,
But he was taen by a savage Moor,
 
Who handld him right cruely.

 

For thro his shoulder he put a bore,
  
5
 
An thro the bore has pitten a tree,
An he’s gard him draw the carts o wine,
 
Where horse and oxen had wont to be.

 

He’s casten [him] in a dungeon deep,
 
Where he coud neither hear nor see;
  
10
He’s shut him up in a prison strong,
 
And he’s handld him right cruely.

 

O this Moor he had but ae daughter,
 
I wot her name was Shusy Pye;
She’s doen her to the prison-house,
  
15
 
And she’s calld Young Bicham one word by.

 

“O hae ye ony lands or rents,
 
Or citys in your ain country,
Coud free you out of prison strong,
 
An coud mantain a lady free?”
  
20

 

“O London city is my own,
 
An other citys twa or three
Coud loose me out o prison strong,
 
An coud mantain a lady free.”

 

O she has bribed her father’s men
  
25
 
Wi meikle goud and white money,
She’s gotten the key o the prison doors,
 
An she has set Young Bicham free.

 

She’s gi’n him a loaf o good white bread,
 
But an a flask o Spanish wine,
  
30
And she bad him mind on the ladie’s love
 
That sae kindly freed him out o pine.

 

“Go set your foot on good ship-board,
 
An haste you back to your ain country,
An before that seven years has an end,
  
35
 
Come back again, love, and marry me.”

 

It was lang or seven years had an end
 
She longd fu sair her love to see;
She’s set her foot on good ship-board,
 
An turnd her back on her ain country.
  
40

 

She’s saild up, so has she doun,
 
Till she came to the other side;
She’s landed at Young Bicham’s gates,
 
An I hop this day she sal be his bride.

 

“Is this Young Bicham’s gates?” says she,
  
45
 
“Or is that noble prince within?”
“He’s up the stairs wi his bonny bride,
 
An monny a lord and lady wi him.”

 

“O has he taen a bonny bride,
 
An has he clean forgotten me!”
  
50
An sighing said that gay lady,
 
“I wish I were in my ain country!”

 

But she’s pitten her han in her pocket,
 
An gin the porter guineas three;
Says, “Take ye that, ye proud porter,
  
55
 
An bid the bridegroom speak to me.”

 

O whan the porter came up the stair,
 
He’s fa’n low down upon his knee:
“Won up, won up, ye proud porter,
 
An what makes a’ this courtesy?”
  
60

 

“O l’ve been porter at your gates
 
This mair nor seven years an three,
But there is a lady at them now
 
The like of whom I never did see.

 

“For on every finger she has a ring,
  
65
 
An on the mid-finger she has three,
An there’s as meikle goud aboon her brow
 
As woud buy an earldome o lan to me.”

 

Then up it started Young Bicham,
 
An sware so loud by Our Lady,
  
70
“It can be nane but Shusy Pye,
 
That has come oer the sea to me.”

 

O quickly ran he down the stair,
 
O fifteen steps he has made but three;
He’s tane his bonny love in his arms,
  
75
 
An a wot he kissed her tenderly.

 

“O hae you taen a bonny bride?
 
An hae you quite forsaken me?
An hae ye quite forgotten her
 
That gae you life an liberty?”
  
80

 

She’s lookit oer her left shoulder
 
To hide the tears stood in her ee;
“Now fare thee well, Young Bicham” she says,
 
“I’ll strive to think nae mair on thee.”

 

“Take back your daughter, madam,” he says,
  
85
 
“An a double dowry I’ll gi her wi;
For I maun marry my first true love,
 
That’s done and suffered so much for me.”

 

He’s take his bonny love by the han,
 
And led her to yon fountain stane;
 
 
90
He’s changd her name frae Shusy Pye,
 
An he’s cald her his bonny love, Lady Jane.

 

List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

 

List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

 

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