“Oh where ha’e ye been, Lord Rand… And where ha’e ye been, my handsom… “I ha’e been to the wild wood: mot… For I’m wearied wi’ hunting, and… “An wha met ye there, Lord Randal…
LATE at een, drinkin’ the wine, And ere they paid the lawin’, They set a combat them between, To fight it in the dawin’. ‘O stay at hame, my noble lord!
We redeth oft and findeth ywrite - And this clerkes wele it wite - Layes that ben in harping Ben yfounde of ferli thing. Sum bethe of wer and sum of wo,
There were three ravens sat on a t… They were as black as they might b… The one of them said to his mate, ‘Where shall we our breakefast tak… ‘Downe in yonder greene field,
MY blood so red For thee was shed, Come home again, come home again; My own sweet heart, come home agai… You’ve gone astray
‘O WHA will shoe my bonny foot? And wha will glove my hand? And wha will bind my middle jimp Wi’ a lang, lang linen band? ‘O wha will kame my yellow hair,
Lend a hand to one another In the daily toil of life; When we meet a weaker brother, Let us help him in the strife. There is none so rich but may,
I know a funny little man, As quiet as a mouse, Who does the mischief that is done In everybody’s house. There’s no one ever sees his face,
Jhesu Cryste, yn Trynyté, Oonly God and persons thre, Graunt us wele to spede, And gyf us grace so to do That we may come thy blys unto,
I WISH I were where Helen lies, Night and day on me she cries; O that I were where Helen lies, On fair Kirconnell lea! Curst be the heart that thought th…
OF on that is so fayr and bright Velut maris stella, Brighter than the day is light, Parens et puella: Ic crie to the, thou see to me,
She’ll be comin’ round the mountai… When she comes. She’ll be comin’ round the mountai… When she comes. She’ll be comin’ round the mountai…
O Death, O Death, rock me asleep… Bring me to quiet rest; Let pass my weary guiltless ghost Out of my careful breast. Toll on, thou passing bell;
BALOW, my babe, lie still and sl… It grieves me sore to see thee wee… Wouldst thou be quiet I’se be gla… Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad: Balow my boy, thy mother’s joy,
IT fell on a day, and a bonnie si… When green grew aits and barley… That there fell out a great disput… Between Argyll and Airlie. Argyll has raised an hunder men,