The Girl Playing Mandolin

There was a youth, and a well-beloved youth,
And he was an esquire’s son,
He loved the bailiff’s daughter dear,
That lived in Islington.
‘The Bailiff’s Daughter of Islington’

There were three lords drinking at the wine
On the dowie dens o’ Yarrow;
They made a compact them between
They would go fight tomorrow.
‘Dowie Dens of Yarrow’ (dowie melancholy; den river valley)

For in my mind, of all mankind
I love but you alone.
‘The Nut Brown Maid’

The wind doth blow to-day, my love,
And a few small drops of rain;
I never had but one true love;
In cold grave she was lain.
‘I’ll do as much for my true-love
As any young man may;
I’ll sit and mourn all at her grave
For a twelvemonth and a day.’
‘The Unquiet Grave’