Unknown, National Ballad and Song (1897)
“ And grant to me those Joys, that belong to Woman-kind,And the Fates above reward your Love, To an old Woman Poor and Blind.I find an itching in my Blood, altho’ it be something Cold,Therefore Good Man do what you can, to comfort me now I’m Old. ”
Unknown, National Ballad and Song (1897)
“ Sae late into the night, And we’ll gang nae mair a roving, boys, Let the moon shine ne’er so bright.Up raise the goodman’s dochter and for to bar the door,And there she saw the beggar standin’ i’ the floor. ”
Unknown, National Ballad and Song (1897)
“ It is the Zirus that makes dead vseWhen he did pull on Vulcans shooes; It is a grafte Horne on a prettye head,A staffe to make a Countesse bedd;There is never a Ladye in this landBut that will take it in her hand ”
