Reliques of ancient English poetry: consisting of old heroic ballads ...

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ANCIENT SONGS
There are manye that are my friendes, mother j
But if thoufands there were my foe,
Betide me life, betide me death,
To lord Thomas his wedding lid goe. 40
She cloathed herfelf in gallant attire,
And her merrye men all in greene,
And as they rid through everye towne,
They took her to be fome queene.
But when fiie came to lord Thomas his gate, 45
She knocked there at the ring ;
And who was fo readye as lord Thomas,
To lett faire Ellinor in.
Is this your bride, faire Ellinor fayd?
Methkks me looks wonderous browne ; 50
Thou mightefl: have had as faire a woman,
As ever trod on the grounde.
Defpife her not, fair Ellin, he fayd,
Defpife her not unto mee ;
For better I love thy little finger,
Than all her whole bodee.
This browne bride had a little penknife,
That was both long and fharpe,
And betwixt the fhort ribs and the long,
She prickd faire Ellinor's harte. 60
O Chrift
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