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Lord Randall

Anonymous
   "Oh where ha'e ye been, Lord Randall my son?
O where ha'e ye been, my handsome young man?"
     "I ha'e been to the wild wood: mother, make my bed soon,
     For I’m weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

   "Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randall my son?
Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?"
     "I dined wi' my true love; mother, make my bed soon,
     For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

   "What gat ye to your dinner, Lord Randall my son?
What gat ye to your dinner, my handsome young man?"
     "I gat eels boiled in broo: mother, make my bed soon,
     For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

   "What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randall my son?
What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?"
     "O they swelled and they died: mother, make my bed soon,
     for I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down."

   "O I fear ye are poisoned, Lord Randall my son!
O I fear ye are poisoned, my handsome young man!"
     "O yes, I am poisoned: mother, make my bed soon,
     For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down."

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

Anonymous

by this poet

poem
My dress is silent when I tread the ground 
Or stay at home or stir upon the waters.
Sometimes my trappings and the lofty air
Raise me above the dwelling-place of men,
And then the power of clouds carries me far
Above the people; and my ornaments
Loudly resound, send forth a melody
And clearly sing, when I am
poem
O Insewn God--born from Zeus' thigh--
   some folk say in Drakanon,
some in windy Ikaros,
   others say in Naxos,
or by the deep-eddying river Alpheos,
pregnant Semele bore you to thunder-loving Zeus.
Others say you were born in Thebes, Lord,
but all of them lie:
   the father of men and gods gave birth to you
poem
The maidens came 
   When I was in my mother's bower;
I had all that I would.
   The bailey beareth the bell away;
   The lily, the rose, the rose I lay.
The silver is white, red is the gold;
The robes they lay in fold.
   The bailey beareth the bell away;
   The lily, the rose, the rose I lay.
And through the