The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Edited by Francis James Child. |
I. |
II. |
29. |
30. |
31. |
32. |
33. |
34. |
35. |
36. |
37. |
38. |
39. |
40. |
41. |
42. |
43. |
44. |
45. |
46. |
47. |
48. |
49. |
50. |
51. |
52. |
53. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
The English and Scottish Popular Ballads | ||
207
Lady Ouncebell
LORD LOVEL—A
[_]
Percy Papers, communicated by the Rev. P. Parsons, of Wye, from singing; May 22, 1770, and April 19, 1775.
1
‘And I fare you well, Lady Ouncebell,For I must needs be gone,
And this time two year I'll meet you again,
To finish the loves we begun.’
2
‘That is a long time, Lord Lovill,’ said she,‘To live in fair Scotland;’
‘And so it is, Lady Ouncebell,
To leave a fair lady alone.’
3
He had not been in fair ScotlandNot half above half a year,
But a longin mind came into his head,
Lady Ouncebell he woud go see her.
4
He called up his stable-groom,To sadle his milk-white stead;
Dey down, dey down, dey down dery down,
I wish Lord Lovill good speed.
5
He had not been in fair LondonNot half above half a day,
But he heard the bells of the high chapel ring,
They rang with a ceserera.
6
He asked of a gentleman,That set there all alone,
What made the bells of the high chapel ring,
The ladys make all their moan.
7
‘One of the king's daughters are dead,’ said he,‘Lady Ouncebell was her name;
She died for love of a courtous young night,
Lord Lovill he was the same.’
8
He caused her corps to be set down,And her winding sheet undone,
And he made a vow before them all
He'd never kiss wowman again.
9
Lady Ouncebell died on the yesterday,Lord Lovill on the morrow;
Lady Ouncebell died for pure true love,
Lord Lovill died for sorrow.
10
Lady Ouncebell was buried in the high chancel,Lord Lovill in the choir;
Lady Ouncebell's breast sprung out a sweet rose,
Lord Lovill's a bunch of sweet brier.
11
They grew till they grew to the top of the church,And then they could grow no higher;
They grew till they grew to a true-lover's not,
And then they tyed both together.
12
An old wowman coming by that way,And a blessing she did crave,
To cut off a bunch of that true-lover's not,
And buried them both in one grave.
The English and Scottish Popular Ballads | ||