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ancient poems-第44章

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I searched his wounds; and found them slight; Some keeper has done this out of spite; But I'll take my pike…staff; … that's the plan! I'll range the woods till I find the man; And I'll tan his hide right well; … if I can!

I ranged the woods and groves all night; I ranged the woods till it proved daylight; The very first thing that then I found; Was a good fat buck that lay dead on the ground; I knew my dogs gave him his death…wound。

I hired a butcher to skin the game; Likewise another to sell the same; The very first buck he offered for sale; Was to an old 'hag' that sold bad ale; And she sent us three poor lads to gaol。

The quarter sessions we soon espied; At which we all were for to be tried; The Chairman laughed the matter to scorn; He said the old woman was all forsworn; And unto pieces she ought to be torn。

The sessions are over; and we are clear! The sessions are over; and we sit here; Singing fol de rol; la re da! The very best game I ever did see; Is a buck or a deer; but a deer for me! In Thornehagh…Moor woods this night we'll be! Fol de rol; la re da!



Ballad: THE LINCOLNSHIRE POACHER。



'THIS very old ditty has been transformed into the dialects of  Somersetshire; Northamptonshire; and Leicestershire; but it  properly belongs to Lincolnshire。  Nor is this the only liberty  that his been taken with it。  The original tune is that of a  Lancashire air; well known as THE MANCHESTER ANGEL; but a florid  modern tune has been substituted。  THE LINCOLNSHIRE POACHER was a  favourite ditty with George IV。; and it is said that he often had  it sung for his amusement by a band of Berkshire ploughmen。  He  also commanded it to be sung at his harvest…homes; but we believe  it was always on such occasions sung to the 'playhouse tune;' and  not to the genuine music。  It is often very difficult to trace the  locality of countrymen's songs; in consequence of the licence  adopted by printers of changing the names of places to suit their  own neighbourhoods; but there is no such difficulty about THE  LINCOLNSHIRE POACHER。  The oldest copy we have seen; printed at  York about 1776; reads 'Lincolnshire;' and it is only in very  modern copies that the venue is removed to other counties。  In the  Somersetshire version the local vernacular is skilfully substituted  for that of the original; but the deception may; nevertheless; be  very easily detected。'


WHEN I was bound apprentice; in famous Lincolnsheer; Full well I served my master for more than seven year; Till I took up with poaching; as you shall quickly hear:… Oh! 'tis my delight of a shiny night; in the season of the year。

As me and my comrades were setting of a snare; 'Twas then we seed the gamekeeper … for him we did not care; For we can wrestle and fight; my boys; and jump o'er everywhere:… Oh! 'tis my delight of a shiny night; in the season of the year。

As me and my comrades were setting four or five; And taking on him up again; we caught the hare alive; We caught the hare alive; my boys; and through the woods did  steer:… Oh! 'tis my delight of a shiny night; in the season of the year。

Bad luck to every magistrate that lives in Lincolnsheer; (59) Success to every poacher that wants to sell a hare; Bad luck to every gamekeeper that will not sell his deer:… Oh! 'tis my delight of a shiny night; in the season of the year。



Ballad: SOMERSETSHIRE HUNTING SONG。



'THIS following song; which is very popular with the peasantry of  Somersetshire; is given as a curious specimen of the dialect still  spoken in some parts of that county。  Though the song is a genuine  peasant's ditty; it is heard in other circles; and frequently  roared out at hunting dinners。  It is here reprinted from a copy  communicated by Mr。 Sandys。'


THERE'S no pleasures can compare Wi' the hunting o' the hare; In the morning; in the morning; In fine and pleasant weather。

CHO。  With our hosses and our hounds; We will scamps it o'er the grounds; And sing traro; huzza! And sing traro; huzza! And sing traro; brave boys; we will foller。

And when poor puss arise; Then away from us she flies; And we'll gives her; boys; we'll gives her; One thundering and loud holler! CHO。  With our hosses; &c。

And when poor puss is killed; We'll retires from the field; And we'll count boys; and we'll count On the same good ren to…morrer。 CHO。  With our bosses and our hounds; &c。



Ballad: THE TROTTING HORSE。



'THE common copies of this old highwayman's song are very corrupt。   We are indebted for the following version; which contains several  emendations; to Mr。 W。 H。  Ainsworth。  The song; which may probably  be referred to the age of Charles II。; is a spirited specimen of  its class。'


I CAN sport as fine a trotting horse as any swell in town; To trot you fourteen miles an hour; I'll bet you fifty crown; He is such a one to bend his knees; and tuck his haunches in; And throw the dust in people's face; and think it not a sin。 For to ride away; trot away; Ri; fa lar; la; &c。

He has an eye like any hawk; a neck like any swan; A foot light as the stag's; the while his back is scarce a span; Kind Nature hath so formed him; he is everything that's good; … Aye! everything a man could wish; in bottom; bone; and blood。 For to ride away; &c。

If you drop therein; he'll nod his head; and boldly walk away; While others kick and bounce about; to him it's only play; There never was a finer horse e'er went on English ground; He is rising six years old; and is all over right and sound。 For to ride away; &c。

If any frisk or milling match should call me out of town; I can pass the blades with white cockades; their whiskers hanging  down; With large jack…towels round their necks; they think they're first  and fast; But; with their gapers open wide; they find that they are last。 Whilst I ride away; &c。

If threescore miles I am from home; I darkness never mind; My friend is gone; and I am left; with pipe and pot behind; Up comes some saucy kiddy; a scampsman on the hot; But ere he pulls the trigger I am off just like a shot。 For I ride away; &c。

If Fortune e'er should fickle be; and wish to have again That which she so freely gave; I'd give it without pain; I would part with it most freely; and without the least remorse; Only grant to me what God hath gave; my mistress and my horse! That I may ride away; &c。



Ballad: THE SEEDS OF LOVE。



'THIS very curious old song is not only a favourite with our  peasantry; but; in consequence of having been introduced into the  modern dramatic entertainment of THE LOAN OF A LOVER; has obtained  popularity in higher circles。  Its sweetly plaintive tune will be  found in POPULAR MUSIC。  The words are quaint; but by no means  wanting in beauty; they are; no doubt; corrupted; as we have  derived them from common broadsides; the only form in which we have  been able to meet with them。  The author of the song was Mrs。  Fleetwood Habergham; of Habergham; in the county of Lancaster。   'Ruined by the extravagance; and disgraced by the vices of her  husband; she soothed her sorrows;' says Dr。 Whitaker; 'by some  stanzas yet remembered among the old people of her neighbourhood。'  … HISTORY OF WHALLEY。  Mrs。 Habergham died in 1703; and 
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