The book of British ballads . e free. My mother was a westerne woman, And learned in gramarye,And when I learned at the schole, Something shee taught itt mee. There growes an hearbe within this field, And iff it were but knowne,His color, which is whyte and redd, It will make blacke and browne: His color, which is browne and blacke,Itt will make redd and whyte; That sworde is not in all Englande,Upon his coate will byte. And you shal be a harper, brother, Out of the north countrye;And He be your boy, soe faine of fighte, And beare your harpe by your knee. And you shal be the best harper,That e
The book of British ballads . e free. My mother was a westerne woman, And learned in gramarye,And when I learned at the schole, Something shee taught itt mee. There growes an hearbe within this field, And iff it were but knowne,His color, which is whyte and redd, It will make blacke and browne: His color, which is browne and blacke,Itt will make redd and whyte; That sworde is not in all Englande,Upon his coate will byte. And you shal be a harper, brother, Out of the north countrye;And He be your boy, soe faine of fighte, And beare your harpe by your knee. And you shal be the best harper,That ever tooke harpe in hand ; And I wil be the best singerThat ever sung in this lande. Itt shal be written in our forheads All and in gramarye,That we towe are the boldest men That are in all Christentye. And thus they renisht them to ryde, On tow good renish steedes;And whan they came to King Adlands hall, Of redd gold shone their weedes. And whan they came to King Adlands hall,Untill the fayre hall yate, 382 I&mg © J, Tenniel del. J. bastin sc. There they found a proud porterEearing himselfe thereatt. Saies, Christ thee save, thou proud porter; Saies, Christ thee save and see. Now you be welcome, sayd the porter, Of what land soever ye bee. < Wee beene harpers, sayd Adler younge, Come out of the northe countrye;Wee beene come hither untill this place,This proud weddinge for to see. Sayd, And your color were white and redd, As it is blacke and browne,I wold saye King Estmere and his brother Were comen untill this towne. Then they pulled out a ryng of gold,Layd itt on the porters arme : < And ever we will thee, proud porter, Thow wilt saye us no harme. Sore he looked on King Estmere,And sore he handled the ryng, Then opened to them the fayre hall yates,He lett for no kind of thyng. King Estmere he stabled his steede Soe fayre att the hall bord;The froth, that came from his brydle bitte, Light on King Bremors beard. Saies, Stable thy steed, thou proud harper,Saies, S
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