The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Edited by Francis James Child. |
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 | The English and Scottish Popular Ballads |  |
THE BROWN GIRL—B
1
‘I am as brown as brown can be,And my eyes as black as sloe;
I am as brisk as brisk can be,
And wild as forest doe.
2
‘My love he was so high and proud,His fortune too so high,
He for another fair pretty maid
Me left and passed me by.
3
‘Me did he send a love-letter,He sent it from the town,
Saying no more he loved me,
For that I was so brown.
4
‘I sent his letter back again,Saying his love I valued not,
Whether that he would fancy me,
Whether that he would not.
5
‘When that six months were overpassd,Were overpassd and gone,
Then did my lover, once so bold,
Lie on his bed and groan.
6
‘When that six months were overpassd,Were gone and overpassd,
O then my lover, once so bold,
With love was sick at last.
7
‘First sent he for the doctor-man:‘You, doctor, me must cure;
The pains that now do torture me
I can not long endure.’
8
‘Next did he send from out the town,O next did send for me;
He sent for me, the brown, brown girl
Who once his wife should be.
9
‘O neer a bit the doctor-manHis sufferings could relieve;
O never an one but the brown, brown girl
Who could his life reprieve.’
10
Now you shall hear what love she hadFor this poor love-sick man,
How all one day, a summer's day,
She walked and never ran.
168
11
When that she came to his bedside,Where he lay sick and weak,
O then for laughing she could not stand
Upright upon her feet.
12
‘You flouted me, you scouted me,And many another one;
Now the reward is come at last,
For all that you have done.’
13
The rings she took from off her hands,The rings by two and three:
‘O take, O take these golden rings,
By them remember me.’
14
She had a white wand in her hand,She strake him on the breast:
‘My faith and troth I give back to thee,
So may thy soul have rest.’
15
‘Prithee,’ said he, ‘forget, forget,Prithee forget, forgive;
O grant me yet a little space,
That I may be well and live.’
16
‘O never will I forget, forgive,So long as I have breath;
I'll dance above your green, green grave
Where you do lie beneath.’
| The English and Scottish Popular Ballads | |