For with hempen cord its better Thou deservest to be stabb'd! Then he turn'd himself away: Thou deservest to be stabb'd, And the dogs have thine ears, For insulting our King In this Parliament of peers; Up sprang a Welsh Lord, In The brave Duke of Devonshire, young Delaware's defence, I'll fight This Dutch Lord, my Sire. For he is in the right, And I'll make it so appear: And to combat they went, But the very first flourish, When the heralds gave command, The sword of brave Devonshire Bent backward on his hand; LORD DELAWARE. In suspense he paused awhile, Then he sprang from the stage, Saying, "Lend your sword, that to an end This tragedy we bring: Though he's fighting me in armour, While I am fighting bare, Even more than this I'd venture, Leaping back on the stage, Sword to buckler now resounds, Till he left the Dutch Lord A bleeding in his wounds: This seeing, cries the King To his guards without delay, "Call Devonshire down, Take the dead man away!" No, says brave Devonshire, I've fought him as a man, Since he's dead, I will keep The trophies I have won; For he fought me in your armour, While I fought him bare, 137 And the same you must win back, my Liege, If ever you them wear. God bless the Church of England, Now starving in this land; And while I pray success may crown Our king upon his throne, I'll wish that every poor man, May long enjoy his own. An imperfect copy of the foregoing interesting Ballad, was noted down by us from the singing of a gentleman in this city, which has necessarily been re-modelled and smoothed down to the present measure, without any other liberties, however, having been taken with the original narrative, which is here carefully preserved as it was committed to us, while the spirit of our original, so far as our endeavours were competent for the task, has been retained throughout. We have not, as yet, been able to trace out the historical incident upon which the Ballad appears to have been founded, yet those curious in such matters may consult, if they list, " Proceedings and Debates in the House of Commons, for 1621 and 1622," where they will find that some stormy debatings in these several years, have been agitated in Parliament regarding the Corn Laws, which bear pretty close upon the leading features of the above. The air is beautiful, and peculiar to the Ballad. THE BONNY LASS O' GOWRIE. A wee bit north frae yon green wood, Than a' the maids in Gowrie. THE BONNY LASS O' GOWRIE. Nae gentle bard e'er sang her praise, Her sang gars a' the woodlands ring, That shade the braes o' Gowrie. Her modest blush an' downcast e'e, This peerless flower o' Gowrie. I've lain upon the dewy green An' thought 'gin ere I durst ca' mine, The bushes that o'erhang the burn, Can witness that I love alane, The bonnie lass o' Gowrie. Let ithers dream, an' sigh for wealth, An' fashions fleet an' flowery, Gie me that hamely innocence 139 Revised from an old stall copy, which ascribes the composition of the original Ballad to a COL. JAMES RAMSAY of Stirling Castle. THE EWE LAMB. I'LL gie thee jewels, an' I'll gie thee rings, I'll gie thee silk petticoats fringed to the knee, I'll nane o' your jewels, I'll nane o' your rings, But my father's a shepherd, wi' his flocks on yon hill, Good-morrow, old father! ye're feeding your flock; How blyth look'd young Jamie, as he took her by the hand, O foul fa' thee, Jamie, thou hast me beguil'd, I little thought the ewe-lamb thou ask'd was my child; But since it is sae, that in love you agree, My blessing gang wi' ye, my dochter, quoth he. |