From Chaucer to Tennyson Part 15

Upon hire lendes[52] ful of many a gore, White was hire smok, and brouded[53] al before And eke behind on hire colere[54] aboute Of cole-black silk within and eke withoute.

The tapes of hire white volupere[55]

Were of the same suit of hire colere; Hire fillet brode of silk and set ful hye; And sikerly[56] she had a likerous[57] eye, Ful smal ypulled[58] were hire browes two, And they were bent and black as any slo, She was wel more blisful on to see Than is the newe perjenete[59] tree, And softer than the wolle is of a wether.

And by hire girdle heng a purse of lether, Ta.s.seled with silk and perled with latoun,[60]

In all this world to seken up and doun Ther n'is no man so wise that coude thenche[61]

So gay a popelot[62] or swiche[63] a wenche.

Ful brighter was the shining of hire hewe Than in the tour, the n.o.ble yforged newe.

But of hire song, it was as loud and yerne[64]

As any swalow sitting on a berne.

Thereto she coude skip and make a game As any kid or calf folowing his dame.

Hire mouth was swete as braket[65] or the meth,[66]

Or horde of apples laid in hay or heth.

Winsing[67] she was, as is a jolly colt, Long as a mast, and upright as a bolt.

A broche she bare upon hire low colere.

As brode as is the bosse of a bokelere.[68]

Hire shoon were laced on hire legges hie; She was a primerole,[69] a piggesnie,[70]

For any lord, to liggen[71] in his bedde, Or yet for any good yeman[72] to wedde.

[Footnote 48: Trim and slim.]

[Footnote 49: Girdle.]

[Footnote 50: Ap.r.o.n.]

[Footnote 51: Morning's milk.]

[Footnote 52: Loins.]

[Footnote 53: Embroidered.]

[Footnote 54: Collar.]

[Footnote 55: Cap.]

[Footnote 56: Surely.]

[Footnote 57: Wanton.]

[Footnote 58: Trimmed fine.]

[Footnote 59: Young pear.]

[Footnote 60: Ornamented with pearl-shaped beads of a metal resembling bra.s.s.]

[Footnote 61: Think.]

[Footnote 62: Puppet.]

[Footnote 63: Such.]

[Footnote 64: Brisk.]

[Footnote 65: A sweet drink of ale, honey, and spice.]

[Footnote 66: Mead.]

[Footnote 67: Skittish.]

[Footnote 68: Buckler.]

[Footnote 69: Primrose.]

[Footnote 70: Pansy.]

[Footnote 71: Lie.]

[Footnote 72: Yeoman.]

ANONYMOUS BALLADS OF THE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES.

WALY, WALY BUT LOVE BE BONNY.

O waly,[73] waly up the bank, And waly, waly down the brae,[74]

And waly, waly yon burn[75] side, Where I and my love wont to gae.

I lean'd my back unto an aik,[76]

I thought it was a trusty tree; But first it bow'd and syne[77] it brak, Sae my true love did lightly me.

O waly, waly but love be bonny, A little time while it is new; But when 'tis auld it waxeth cauld, And fades away like the morning dew.

O wherefore should I busk[78] my head?

Or wherefore should I kame[79] my hair?

For my true love has me forsook, And says he'll never love me mair.

Now Arthur-Seat shall be my bed, The sheets shall ne'er be fyl'd by me; Saint Anton's well[80] shall be my drink, Sinn my true love has forsaken me.

Martinmas' wind, when wilt thou blaw And shake the green leaves off the tree?

O gentle death, when wilt thou come?

For of my life I'm aweary.

'Tis not the frost that freezes fell, Nor blawing snow's inclemency; 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my love's heart grown cauld to me.

When we came in by Glasgow town We were a comely sight to see; My love was clad in the black velvet, And I myself in cramasie.[81]

But had I wist, before I kissed, That love had been sae ill to win, I'd lock'd my heart in a case of gold, And pin'd it with a silver pin.

Oh, oh, if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee, And I myself were dead and gane, And the green gra.s.s growing over me!

[Footnote 73: An exclamation of sorrow, woe! alas!]

[Footnote 74: Hillside.]

[Footnote 75: Brook.]

[Footnote 76: Oak.]

[Footnote 77: Then.]

[Footnote 78: Adorn.]

[Footnote 79: Comb.]

[Footnote 80: At the foot of Arthur's-Seat, a cliff near Edinburgh.]

[Footnote 81: Crimson.]

THE TWO CORBIES.[82]

As I was walking all alane I heard twa corbies making a mane; The tane unto the t'other say, "Where sail we gang and dine to-day?"

"In behint yon auld fail[83] d.y.k.e, I wot there lies a new-slain knight; And naebody kens that he lies there But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.

"His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild fowl hame, His lady's ta'en another mate, So we may mak our dinner sweet.