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

130
ANCIENT SONGS
O hooly, hooly, raife fhe up,
To the plaice wher he was lyan ;
And whan fhe drew the curtain by,
Young man, I think ye're dyan*
O its I'm fick, and very very fick,
And its a* for Barbara Allan :
O the better for me ye'fe never be, 15
Though your harts blude wer fpillan.
Remember ye nat in the tavern, fir,
Whan ye the cups wer iillan ;
How ye maide the healths gae round and round,
And flighted Barbara Allan ? 20
He turn'd his face unto the wa*
And death was with him dealan ;
Adiew ! adiew ! my dear friends a%
Be kind to Barbara Allan.
Then hooly, hooly, raife fhe up,
And hooly, hooly left him ;
And fighan faid, fhe could not ftay,
Since death of life had reft him.
She had not gane a mile but twa,
Whan fhe heard the deid-bell knellan ;
And everye jow the deid-bell geid,
Cried, wae to Barbara Allan 1
* An ingenious friend thinks the rhymes Dyand zndLyand oirght
to be tranfpofed ; as the taunt Young viant Itbinkyere lyand, would be
very chanfterifKcal.
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l o
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