Oh! I wish I were a tiny browny bird from out the south,

Shires and towns from Airly Beacon,While my love climbed up to me!Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon;Oh, the happy hours we layDeep in fern on Airly Beacon,Courting through the summer’s day!Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon;Oh, the weary haunt for me,All alone on Airly Beacon,With his baby on my knee!

You’re booked to ride your capping race to-day at Coulterlee,You’re booked to ride Vindictive, for all the world to see,To keep him straight, and keep him first, and win the run for me.”Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Baree.She clasp’d her newborn baby, poor Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorrèe,Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Baree.“I cannot ride…

She looked across the water;And long and loud laughed she:‘The locks of six princessesMust be my marriage fee,So hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat!Who comes a wooing me?’It was Earl Haldan’s daughter,She walked along the sand;When she was aware of a knight so fair,Came sailing to the land.His sails were all of velvet,His mast…

But seven fisher maidens he left behindAll dancing hand in hand.He came unto the wise wife’s house:‘Now, Mother, to prove your art;To charm May Carleton’s merry blue eyesOut of a young man’s heart.’‘My son, you went for a holy man,Whose heart was set on high;Go sing in your psalter, and read in your books;Man’s love…

Mighty war-smiths, thanes and lords,In Senlac slept the sleep of swords.Harold Earl, shot over shield,Lay along the autumn weald;Slaughter such was never noneSince the Ethelings England won.Thither Lady Githa came,Weeping sore for grief and shame;How may she her first-born tell?Frenchmen stript him where he fell,Gashed and marred his comely face;Who can know him in his…

And the merry merry bells below were ringing,When my child’s laugh rang through me.Now the hare is snared and dead beside the snow-yard,And the lark beside the dreary winter sea;And the baby in his cradle in the churchyardSleeps sound till the bell brings me.Eversley, 1848.