Ballads of W. Shakespeare

7/29/2019 Ballads of W. Shakespeare

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The two brothers

Somewhere in Vietnam, September first

Dear, Mom and Dad

We must've marched twenty miles today

Through the rain and the mud

And believe it or not

This is the first opportunity

I've had to sit down and

Write in two or three weeks

This'll have to be short

But I just wanted to send my love

And let you know that I'm doing fine

But you know, just being here

And seeing how close these people

Are to losing their freedom

Makes me that much more determined

To help win this war

'Cause if we don't, the next battlefield

May be closer to home than Vietnam

Must close for now, all my love

Your son, Bud

P.S., how's Tommy doing

At State UniversityTell him his big brother said hello

State University, September first

Hi, Dad, we must have

Marched twenty blocks today

And, baby, I'm beat

I mean, like the sign

I was carrying got real heavy

But, Dad, everything was out of sight

There were recorders and

Photographers and cameraman

From every major news

Service and network in the nation

So look for your baby boy's picture

On the front page of today's paper

Of course, you might have a

Little trouble recognizing me

With my groovy beard

But, Dad, I know we're right

How can you defend my brother

Murdering all those people overseas



So what if the Communists

Do take over in South Vietnam

Why, just today

Our economics professor assured us

That people get along

Just as well under communism

As they do under

Any other form of government

I'm sorry, Dad

But this God and country bit

Just isn't my bag

Gotta go, dad, big rally tonight

Your son, Tommy

P.S., Dad better send me an

Extra fifty bucks this week, dig

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Smith

I know you must be awfully

Proud of your fine son

I wish I could be there to

See you recieve Bud's medal of honor

It may comfort you to know

That his last thoughts were of you

And as his sergeant

I can truthfully sayHe was one of the bravest men

I have ever known

Dear Mom and Dad

It's been some time

Since I received word about Bud

Somehow I just didn't have

The nerve to come home

But I've done a lot of thinking since then

About my turned on friends and About what they said about communism

We were all wrong

And you know, I always just worship Bud

Now that I've thought it over, I know

That he would never fight for something

Unless he believed in it

With all of his heart

And in spite of all my past mistakes

I hope that somehow, somedayI can become as big in your eyes

As my brother will always be



Your son, Private Tommy Smith

The Twa Sisters

Traditional Ballads

THERE was twa sisters in a bowr,

Binnorie, O Binnorie

There was twa sisters in a bowr,

Binnorie, O Binnorie

There was twa sisters in a bowr, 5

There came a knight to be their wooer,

By the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie.

He courted the eldest wi glove an ring,But he lovd the youngest above a’ thing.

He courted the eldest wi brotch an knife, 10

But lovd the Youngest as his life.

The eldest she was vexed sair,

An much envi’d her sister fair.

Into her bowr she could not rest,

Wi grief an spite she almos brast. 15

Upon a morning fair an clear,

She cried upon her sister dear:

“O sister, come to yon sea stran,

An see our father’s ships come to lan.”

She’s taen her by the milk-white han, 20

And led her down to yon sea stran.

The younges[t] stood upon a stane,The eldest came an threw her in.

She tooke her by the middle sma,

And dashd her bonny back to the jaw. 1 25

“O sister, sister, tak my han,

An Ise 2 mack you heir to a’ my lan.

“O sister, sister, tak my middle,

An Yes 3 get my goud 4 and my gouden girdle.

“O sister, sister, save my life, 30

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An I swear Ise never be nae man’s wife.”

“Foul fa the han that I should tacke,

It twin’ d 5 me an my wardles make. 6

“Your cherry cheeks an yallow hair Gars 7 me gae maiden for evermair.” 35

Sometimes she sank, an sometimes she swam,

Till she came down yon bonny mill-dam.

O out it came the miller’s son,

An saw the fair maid swimmin in.

“O father, father, draw your dam, 40

Here’s either a mermaid or a swan.”

The miller quickly drew the dam,

An there he found a drownd woman.

You coudna see her yallow hair

For gold and pearle that were so rare. 45

You coudna see her middle sma

For gouden girdle that was sae braw.

You coudna see her fingers white,

For gouden rings that was sae gryte. 8

An by there came a harper fine, 50

That harped to the king at dine.

When he did look that lady upon,

He sighd and made a heavy moan.

He’s taen three locks o her yallow hair,

An wi them strung his harp sae fair. 55

The first tune he did play and sing,

Was, “Farewell to my father the king.”

The nextin tune that he playd syne, 9

Was, “Farewell to my mother the queen.”

The lasten tune that he playd then, 60

Was, “Wae to my sister, fair Ellen.”

Note 1. Ye shall. [back ]

Note 2. Gold. [back ]
















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Note 3. Separated. [back ]

Note 4. World’s mate. [back ]

Note 5. Causes. [back ]

Note 6. Great. [back ]

Note 7. Then. [back ]

Note 8. Go. [back ]

Note 9. So good. [back ]

The Twa Corbies

Traditional Ballads

AS 1 I was walking all alane,

I heard two corbies making a mane;

The tane unto the t’ other say,

“Where sall we gang and dine to-day?”

“In behint yon auld fail 2 dyke, 5

I wot 3 there lies a new slain knight;

And naebody kens 4 that he lies there,

But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.

“His hound is to the hunting gane,

His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, 10

His lady’s ta’en another mate,

So we may mak our dinner sweet.

“Ye’ll sit on his white hause-bane, 5

And I’ll pike out his bonny blue een;

Wi ae lock o his gowden hair 15

We’ll theek 6 our nest when it grows bare.

“Mony a one for him makes mane, 7

But nane sall ken where he is gane;

Oer his white banes when they are bare,

The wind sall blaw for evermair.” 20

Note 1. Turf. [back ]

Note 2. Know. [back ]





































































And then they ate the black;

Tho muckle thought the goodwife to hersel,

Yet neer a word she spake.

Then said the one unto the other,

“Here, man, tak ye my knife; 30 Do ye tak aff the auld man’s beard,

And I’ll kiss the goodwife.”

“But there’s nae water in the house,

And what shall we do than?”

“What ails thee at the pudding-broo, 3 35

That boils into the pan?”

O up then started our goodman,

An angry man was he:

“Will ye kiss my wife before my een, And scad 4 me wi pudding- bree?” 40

Then up and started our goodwife,

Gied three skips on the floor:

“Goodman, you’ve spoken the foremost word,

Get up and bar the door.”

Note 1. Housewifery. [back ]

Note 2. Water in which the puddings were boiled. [back ] Note 3. Scald. [back ]

Note 4. Dry, make. [back ]



























1 Some they will talk of bold Robin Hood,

And some of barons bold,But I'll tell you how he servd the Bishop ofHereford,

When he robbed him of his gold.

2 As it befel in merry Barnsdale,And under the green-wood tree,

The Bishop of Hereford was to come by,With all his company.

3 'Come, kill a venson,' said bold Robin Hood,'Come, kill ne a good fat deer;

The Bishop of Hereford is to dine with meto-day,

And he shall pay well for his cheer.

4 'We'll kill a fat venson,' said bold RobinHood,

'And dress it by the highway-side;And we will watch the Bishop narrowly,

Lest some other way he should ride.'

5 Robin Hood dressd himself in shepherd's attire,With six of his men also;

And, when the Bishop of Hereford came by,They about the fire did go.

6 'O what is the matter?' then said the Bishop,'Or for whom do you make this a-do?

Or why do you kill the king's venson,When your company is so few?'

7 'We are shepherds,' said bold Robin Hood.'And we keep sheep all the year,

And we are disposed to be merry this day,And to kill of the king's fat deer.'

8 'You are brave fellow!' said the Bishop,





'No pardon I thee owe;Therefore make haste and come along with me,

For to merry Barnsdale you shall go.'

17 Then Robin he took the Bishop by the hand,And led him to merry Barnsdale;

He made him stay and sup with him thatnight,

And to drink wine, beer, and ale.

18 'Call in the reckoning,' said the Bishop,'For me thinks it grows wondrous high:'

'Lend me your purse, Bishop,' said Little John,

'And I'll tell you bye and bye.'

19 Then Little John took the bishop's cloak,And spread it upon the ground,

And out of the bishop's portmantuaHe told three hundred pound.

20 'Here's money enough, master,' said Little John,

'And a comely sight 't is to see;It makes me in charity with the Bishop,

Tho he heartily loveth not me.'

21 Robin Hood took the Bishop by the hand,And he caused the music to play,

And he made the Bishop to dance in his boots,

And glad he could so get away.Here's the ending verse to another, shorter, version of the ballad.

11 'Come, sing us a mass,' sayes bold Robin Hood,'Come, sing us a mass all anon;

Come, sing us a mass,' sayes bold Robin Hood,'Take a kick in the a--se, and be gone.'









For I'm wearied wi huntin, and fain wad lie down."

"And what did she give you, Lord Randal, my son?

And wha did she give you, my handsome young man?"

"Eels fried in a pan; mother, mak my bed soon,

For I'm wearied wi huntin, and fein wad lie down."

"And what gat your leavins, Lord Randal my son?

And wha gat your leavins, my handsome young man?"

"My hawks and my hounds; mother, mak my bed soon,

For I'm wearied wi huntin, and fein wad lie down."

"And what becam of them, Lord Randal, my son?

And what becam of them, my handsome young man?"

"They stretched their legs out and died; mother mak my bed soon,

For I'm wearied wi huntin, and fain wad lie down."

"O I fear you are poisoned, Lord Randal, my son!

I fear you are poisoned, my handsome young man!"

"O yes, I am poisoned; mother, mak my bed soon,

For I'm sick at the heart, and fain wad lie down."

"What d'ye leave to your mother, Lord Randal, my son?

What d'ye leave to your mother, my handsome young man?"

"Four and twenty milk kye; mother, make my bed soon,

For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down."

"What d'ye leave to your sister, Lord Randal, my son?

What d'ye leave to your sister, my handsome young man?"

"My gold and my silver; mother mak my bed soon,

For I'm sick at the heart, an I fain wad lie down."

"What d'ye leave to your brother, Lord Randal, my son?

What d'ye leave to your brother, my handsome young man?"

"My houses and my lands; mother, mak my bed soon,


"What d'ye leave to your true-love, Lord Randal, my son?

What d'ye leave to your true-love, my handsome young man?"

"I leave her hell and fire; mother mak my bed soon,
































































































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Ballads of W. Shakespeare