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,
He. BE it right or wrong, these m… On women do complain; Affirming this, how that it is A labour spent in vain To love them wele; for never a del…
IN somer when the shawes be sheyn… And leves be large and long, Hit is full merry in feyre foreste To here the foulys song. To se the dere draw to the dale
THERE is a Lady sweet and kind, Was never face so pleased my mind; I did but see her passing by, And yet I love her till I die. Her gesture, motion, and her smile…
To the Red River Valley we are g… For to get us some trains and some… But if I had my say so about it, I’d still be at home in the sack. Come and sit by my side at the bri…
I have a gentil cock croweth me day he doth me risen early my matins for to stay I have a gentil cock
ALL under the leaves and the leav… I met with virgins seven, And one of them was Mary mild, Our Lord’s mother of Heaven. ‘O what are you seeking, you seven…
AS ye came from the holy land Of Walsinghame, Met you not with my true love By the way as you came? How should I know your true love,
I wish I were where Helen lies; Night and day on me she cries; Oh that I were where Helen lies On fair Kirconnell lea! Curst be the heart that thought th…
IN Scarlet town, where I was bor… There was a fair maid dwellin’, Made every youth cry Well-a-way! Her name was Barbara Allen. All in the merry month of May,
Frankie and Johnnie were lovers, O, my Gawd, how they could love, They swore to be true to each othe… As true as the stars above; He was her man, but he done her wr…
I want to go home, I want to go home, I don’t want to go in the trenches… Where whizz-bangs and shrapnel the… Take me over the sea
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,
‘WHY does your brand sae drop wi’… Edward, Edward? Why does your brand sae drop wi’ b… And why sae sad gang ye, O?’ ‘O I hae kill’d my hawk sae gude,
Westron wind, when wilt thou blow That small rain down can rain? Christ, that my love were in my ar… And I in my bed again!