Читать книгу Story-Telling Ballads. Selected and Arranged for Story-Telling and Reading Aloud and for the Boys' and Girls' Own Reading онлайн

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And music on every hand.”

She has taken up her two little babes,

Kissd them baith cheek and chin:

“O fair ye weel, my ain two babes,

For I’ll never see you again.”

She set her foot upon the ship,

No mariners could she behold;

But the sails were o the taffetie,

And the masts o the beaten gold.

She had not sailed a league, a league,

A league but barely three,

When dismal grew his countenance,

And drumlie grew his ee.

They had not saild a league, a league,

A league but barely three,

Until she espied his cloven foot,

And she wept right bitterlie.

“O hold your tongue of your weeping,” says he,

“Of your weeping now let me be;

I will shew you how the lilies grow

On the banks of Italy.”

“O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills,

That the sun shines sweetly on?”

“O yon are the hills of heaven,” he said,

“Where you will never win.”

“O whaten a mountain is yon,” she said,

“All so dreary wi frost and snow?”

“O yon is the mountain of hell,” he cried,

“Where you and I will go.”

He strack the tap-mast wi his hand,