The book of British ballads . Uorb Nor forged steel, nor hempen band, Shall eer thy limbs confine,Till threefold ropes of sifted sand Around thy body twine. If danger press fast, knock thrice on the chest, With rusty padlocks bound ;Turn away your eyes, when the lid shall rise, And listen to the sound. Lord Soulis he sat in Hermitage Castle, And Redcap was not by ;And he called on a page, who was witty and sage, To go to the barmkin high. And look thou east, and look thou west, And quickly come tell to me,What troopers haste along the waste, And what may their livery be. He looked ove
The book of British ballads . Uorb Nor forged steel, nor hempen band, Shall eer thy limbs confine,Till threefold ropes of sifted sand Around thy body twine. If danger press fast, knock thrice on the chest, With rusty padlocks bound ;Turn away your eyes, when the lid shall rise, And listen to the sound. Lord Soulis he sat in Hermitage Castle, And Redcap was not by ;And he called on a page, who was witty and sage, To go to the barmkin high. And look thou east, and look thou west, And quickly come tell to me,What troopers haste along the waste, And what may their livery be. He looked over fell, and he looked oer flat, But nothing, I wist, he saw,Save a pyot on a turret that sat Beside a corby craw. The page he looked at the skrieh of day, But, nothing, I wist, he saw,Till a horseman gray, in the royal array, Rode down the Hazel-shaw. Say, why do you cross oer moor and moss V So loudly cried the page ; I tidings bring, from Scotlands King, To Soulis of Hermitage. He bids me tell that bloody warden, Oppressor of low and hig
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, bookidg, bookpublisherlondonjhow
