There once was a man from Nantuck… Who kept all of his cash in a buck… But his daughter, named Nan, Ran away with a man And as for the bucket, Nan took i…
O MY deir hert, young Jesus swei… Prepare thy creddil in my spreit, And I sall rock thee in my hert And never mair from thee depart. But I sall praise thee evermoir
The time when first I fell in lov… Which now I must lament; The year wherein I lost such time To compass my content. The day wherein I saw too late
Westron wind, when wilt thou blow That small rain down can rain? Christ, that my love were in my ar… And I in my bed again!
ALL under the leaves and the leav… I met with virgins seven, And one of them was Mary mild, Our Lord’s mother of Heaven. ‘O what are you seeking, you seven…
Late at e’en, drinking the wine, And ere they paid the lawing, They set a combat them between, To fight it in the dawing. ‘What though ye be my sister’s lor…
Frankie and Johnnie were lovers, O, my Gawd, how they could love, They swore to be true to each othe… As true as the stars above; He was her man, but he done her wr…
LESTENYT, lordynges, both elde… How this rose began to sprynge; Swych a rose to myn lykynge In al this word ne knowe I non… The Aungil came fro hevene tour,
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…
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…
HEY nonny no! Men are fools that wish to die! Is ‘t not fine to dance and sing When the bells of death do ring? Is ’t not fine to swim in wine,
I eat my peas with honey; I’ve done it all my life. It makes the peas taste funny, But it keeps them on the knife.
Anonymous English Christmas carol… (first published in the children’s… On the first day of Christmas, My true love sent to me A partridge in a pear tree.
‘Oh, you must answer my questions… Sing ninety-nine and ninety, Or you’re not God’s, you’re one o… And you are the weaver’s bonny.’ ‘What is whiter than the milk?
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;