"I list no more the tuck of drum, No more the trumpet hear; But when the beetle sounds his hum, CHORUS 45 "And, O! though Brignall banks be fair, And Greta woods be gay, 50 Yet mickle must the maiden dare, "Maiden! a nameless life I lead, The fiend, whose lantern lights the mead, And when I'm with my comrades met, 55 What once we were we all forget, 60 CHORUS "Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair, And you may gather garlands there SONG A WEARY LOT IS THINE (From the same) CANTO III. XXVIII. “A weary lot is thine, fair maid, To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, 5 A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, 10 No more of me you knew. "This morn is merry June, I trow, But she shall bloom in winter snow, 15 He turn'd his charger as he spake, He gave his bridle-reins a shake, 20 And adieu forever more." SONG ALLAN-A-DALE (From the same) CANTO III. XXX. Allan-a-Dale has no faggots for burning, Allan-a-Dale has no furrow for turning, Allan-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning, Yet Allan-a-Dale has red gold for the winning. 5 Come, read me my riddle! come, harken my tale! And tell me the craft of bold Allan-a-Dale. The Baron of Ravensworth prances in pride, And he views his domains upon Arkindale side. The mere for his net, and the land for his game, 10 The chase for the wild, and the park for the tame; Yet the fish of the lake, and the deer of the vale. Allan-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight, 15 Allan-a-Dale is no baron or lord, Yet twenty tall yeoman will draw at his word; Allan-a-Dale to his wooing is come; 66 20 The mother, she ask'd of his household and home: My hall," quoth bold Allan, "shows gallanter 'Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so pale, And with all its bright spangles!" said Allan-a Dale. 25 The father was steel, and the mother was stone; They lifted the latch, and they bade him begone; But loud, on the morrow, their wail and their cry: He has laugh'd on the lass with his bonny black eye, And she fled to the forest to hear a love-tale, 30 And the youth it was told by was Allan-a-Dale! SONG THE CAVALIER (From the same) CANTO V. XX While the dawn on the mountain was misty and gray, My true love has mounted his steed and away, ་ Over hill, over valley, o'er dale, and o'er down; Heaven shield the brave Gallant that fights for the Crown! 5 He has doff'd the silk doublet the breast-plate to bear, He has placed the steel-cap o'er his long flowing hair, From his belt to his stirrup his broadsword hangs down, Heaven shield the brave Gallant that fights for the Crown! For the rights of fair England that broadsword he draws; 10 Her King is his leader, her Church is his cause; His watchword is honour, his pay is renown,— God strike with the Gallant that strikes for the Crown! They may boast of their Fairfax, their Waller, and all The round-headed rebels of Westminster Hall; 15 But tell those bold traitors of London's proud town, That the spears of the North have encircled the There's Derby and Cavendish,. dread of their foes; There's Erin's high Ormond, and Scotland's Would you match the base Skippon, and Massey, 20 With the Barons of England, that fight for the Crown? Now joy to the crest of the brave Cavalier! In a pledge to fair England, her Church, and her HUNTING SONG (1808) Waken, lords and ladies gay, On the mountain dawns the day; With hawk, and horse, and hunting-spear; "Waken, lords and ladies gay." Waken, lords and ladies gay, 10 The mist has left the mountain gray, Springlets in the dawn are steaming, To track the buck in thicket green; 15 Now we come to chant our lay, "Waken, lords and ladies gay." Waken, lords and ladies gay, We can show the marks he made, "Waken, lords and ladies gay." |