IN somer when the shawes be sheyn… And leves be large and long, Hit is full merry in feyre foreste To here the foulys song. To se the dere draw to the dale
The king sits in Dumferling toune… Drinking the blude-reid wine: “O whar will I get guid sailor, To sail this schip of mine?” Up and spak an eldern knicht,
There is a Miracle called Friends… that dwells within the heart and you don’t know how it happens or when it even starts. But the happiness it brings you
SINCE first I saw your face I r… If now I be disdained I wish my h… What? I that loved and you that l… No, no, no, my heart is fast, and… If I admire or praise you too muc…
Royal Charlie’s now awa, Safely owre the friendly main; Mony a heart will break in twa, Should he ne’er come back again. Will you no come back again?
Christmas is coming, The geese are getting fat, Please put a penny In the old man’s hat. If you haven’t got a penny,
Lysteneth, lordinges, gente and fr… Ich wille you telle of Sire Degar… Knightes that were sometyme in lon… Ferli fele wolde fonde And sechen aventures bi night and…
O HAPPY dames! that may embrace The fruit of your delight, Help to bewail the woful case And eke the heavy plight Of me, that wonted to rejoice
There were three ravens sat on a t… They were as black as they might b… The one of them said to his mate, ‘Where shall we our breakefast tak… ‘Downe in yonder greene field,
O Death, O Death, rock me asleep… Bring me to quiet rest; Let pass my weary guiltless ghost Out of my careful breast. Toll on, thou passing bell;
She sat down below a thorn, Fine flowers in the valley; And there she has her sweet babe b… And the green leaves they grow rar… ‘Smile na sae sweet, my bonnie bab…
IN Scarlet town, where I was bor… There was a fair maid dwellin’, Made every youth cry Well-a-way! Her name was Barbara Allen. All in the merry month of May,
SUMER is icumen in, Lhude sing cuccu! Groweth sed, and bloweth med, And springth the wude nu— Sing cuccu!
O Burr, O Burr, what hast though… Thou hast shooted dead great Hami… You hid behind a bunch of thistle, And shooted him dead with a great… Caption on a wax tableau of Vice…
THIS winter’s weather it waxeth… And frost it freezeth on every… And Boreas blows his blast so bol… That all our cattle are like to… Bell, my wife, she loves no strife…