File:The book of British ballads (1842) (14596073000).jpg

Identifier: gri_33125012902363 (find matches)
Title: The book of British ballads
Year: 1842 (1840s)
Authors: Hall, S. C. (Samuel Carter), 1800-1889
Subjects: Ballads, English
Publisher: London : J. How
Contributing Library: Getty Research Institute
Digitizing Sponsor: Getty Research Institute

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At length upon his beating breastHe signs the holy crosse ; And, rouzing up his wonted might,He treads th unhallowed mosse. Beneath a pendant craggy cliff, All vaulted like a grave,And opening in the solid rock, He found the inchanted cave. An iron gate closed up the mouth,All hideous and forlorne ; And, fastened by a silver chain,Near hung a brazed horne. Then offering up a secret prayer,Three times he blowes amaine : Three times a deepe and hollow soundDid answer him againe. Sir Knight, thy lady beares a son,Who, like a dragon bright, Shall prove most dreadful to his foes,And terrible in fight. His name, advanced in future times,On banners shall be worn : But, lo ! thy ladys life must passeBefore he can be born. All sore opprest with fear and doubtLong time Lord Albert stood ; At length he winds his doubtful wayBack through the dreary wood. Eager to clasp his lovely dame,Then fast he travels back ; But when he reached his castle gate,His gate was hung with black. of gbt. George.
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W. B. Scott, del. H. ViieteUy, sc. In every court and hall he found A sullen silence reigne ;Save where, amid the lonely towers, He heard her maidens plaine ; And bitterly lament and weep,With many a grievous grone : Then sore his bleeding heart misgave,His ladys life was gone. With faultering step he enters in, Yet half affraid to goe ;With trembling voice asks why they grieve, Yet fears the cause to knowe. Three times the sun hath rose and set,They said, then stopt to weep, 1 Since heaven hath laid thy lady deareIn deaths eternal sleep. For, ah! in travail sore she fell, So sore that she must dye;Unless some shrewd and cunning leech Could ease her presentlye. But when a cunning leech was fet, Too soon declared he,She, or her babe must lose its life ; Both saved could not be. Now take my life, thy lady said; My little infant save :And O ! commend me to my lord, When I am laid in grave. 0 ! tell him how that precious babe Cost him a tender wife ;And teach my son to lisp her name, Who

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