poem index

poet

Anonymous

by this poet

poem
I

'The wind doth blow today, my love,  
  And a few small drops of rain;  
I never had but one true-love;  
  In cold grave she was lain.  
  
II

'I'll do as much for my true-love 
  As any young man may;  
I'll sit and mourn all at her grave  
  For a twelvemonth and a day.'  
  
III

The twelvemonth and a
poem
   "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
poem
There was a lady loved a swine,
     "Honey!" quoth she;
"Pig-hog, wilt thou be mine?"
     "Hoogh!" quoth he.

"I'll build thee a silver sty,
     Honey!" quoth she;
"And in it thou shalt lie!"
     "Hoogh!" quoth he.

"Pinned with a silver pin,
     Honey!" quoth she;
"That thou mayest go out and in,"
     "