Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=346019" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Gil Morrice. A Scottish Ballad</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gil Morrice was an erles son,<br>His name it waxed wide:<br>It was nae for his great riches,<br>Nor zet was mickle pride;<br>Bot it was for a lady gay,<br>That livd on Carron side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Quhair sall I get a bonny boy,<br>That will win hose and shoen;<br>That will gae to Lord Barnard's ha', <br>And bid his lady cum?<br>And ze maun rin my errand, Willie,<br>And ze may rin wi' pride;<br>Quhen other boys gae on their foot,<br>On horse-back ze sall ride.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O no! O no! my master dear!<br>I dare nae for my life;<br>I'll no gae to the bauld barons,<br>For to triest furth his wife.'<br>'My bird Willie, my boy Willie,<br>My dear Willie,' he sayd:<br>'How can ze strive against the stream?<br>For I shall be obeyd.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Bot, O my master dear!' he cry'd,<br>'In grene wod ze're zour lain;<br>Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede,<br>For fear ze should be tain.'<br>'Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha', <br>Bid hir cum here wi speid:<br>If ze refuse my heigh command,<br>Ill gar zour body bleid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Gae bid hir take this gay mantel,<br>'Tis a gowd bot the hem;<br>Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode,<br>And bring nane bot hir lain:<br>And there it is, a silken sarke,<br>Hir ain hand sewd the sleive;<br>And bid hir cum to Gill Morice,<br>Speir nae bauld barons leave.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Yes, I will gae zour blacke errand,<br>Though it be to zour cost;<br>Sen ze by me well nae be warn'd,<br>In it ze sall find frost.<br>The baron he is a man of might,<br>He neir could bide to taunt;<br>As ze will see before it's nicht,<br>How sma' ze hae to vaunt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And sen I maun zour errand rin<br>Sae sair against my will,<br>I'se make a vow and keip it trow,<br>It sall be done for ill.'<br>And quhen he came to broken brigue,<br>He bent his bow and swam;<br>And quhen he came to grass growing,<br>Set down his feet and ran.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And quhen he came to Barnards ha',<br>Would neither chap nor ca';<br>Bot set his bent bow to his breist,<br>And lichtly lap the wa'.<br>He wauld nae tell the man his errand,<br>Bot straiht into the ha' he cam,<br>Quhair they were set at meit.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hail! hail! my gentle sire and dame!<br>My message winna waite;<br>Dame, ze maun to the gude grene wod,<br>Before that it be late.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ze're bidden tak this gay mantel,<br>Tis a' gowd bot the hem:<br>Zou maun gae to the gude grene wode,<br>Ev'n by your sel alane.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And there it is, a silken sarke,<br>Your ain hand sewd the sleive:<br>Ze maun gae speik to Gill Morice;<br>Speir nae bauld barons leave.'<br>The lady stamped wi' hir foot,<br>And winked wi' her ee;<br>Bot a' that she coud say or do,<br>Forbidden he wad nae bee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Its surely to my bow'r-woman;<br>It neir could be to me.'<br>'I brocht it to Lord Barnards lady;<br>I trow that ze be she.'<br>Then up and spack the wylie nurse,<br>(The bairn upon hir knee):<br>'If it be cum frae Gill Morice, <br>It' deir welcum to mee.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ze leid, ze leid, ze filthy nurse,<br>Sae loud I heird ze lee;<br>I brocht it to Lord Barnards lady;<br>I trow ze be nae shee.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then up and spack the bauld baron,<br>An angry man was hee;<br>He's tain the table wi' his foot,<br>Sae has he wi' his knee,<br>Till siller cup and 'mazer' dish<br>In flinders he gard flee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Gae bring a robe of zour cliding<br>That hings upon the pin;<br>And I'll gae to the gude grene wode,<br>And speik wi' zour lemman.<br>'O bide at hame, now, Lord Barnard,<br>I warde ze bide at hame;<br>Neir wyte a man for violence,<br>That neir wate ze wi' nane.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode,<br>He whistled and he sang:<br>'O what mean a' the folk coming?<br>His hair was like the threeds of gold,<br>Drawne frae Minerva's loome;<br>His lipps like roses drapping dew;<br>His breath was a' perfume.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His browe was like the mountains snae<br>Gilt by the morning beam;<br>His cheeks like living roses glow;<br>His een like azure stream.<br>The boy was clad in robes of grene,<br>Sweete as the infant spring;<br>And like the mavis on the bush,<br>He gart the vallies ring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The baron came to the grene wode,<br>Wi' mickle dule and care,<br>And there he first spied Gill Morice<br>Kameing his zellow hair<br>That sweetly wavd around his face,<br>That face beyond compare;<br>He sang sae sweet, it might dispel<br>A' rage but fell despair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Nae wonder, nae wonder, Gill Morice,<br>My lady loed thee weel;<br>The fairest part of my bodie <br>Is blacker than thy heel.<br>Zet neir the less now, Gill Morice,<br>For al' thy great beautie, <br>Ze's rew the day ze eir was born;<br>That head sall gae wi' me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now he was drawn his trusty brand,<br>And slaited on the strae;<br>And thro' Gill Morice' fair body <br>He's gar cauld iron gae.<br>And he has tain Gill Morice' head<br>And set it on a speir:<br>The meanest man in a' his train<br>Has gotten that head to bear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he has tain Gill Morice up,<br>Laid him across his steid,<br>And brocht him to his painted bowr,<br>And laid him on a bed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lady sat on castil wa',<br>Beheld baith dale and doun;<br>And there she saw Gill Morice' head<br>Cum trailing to the toun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Far better I loe that bluidy head,<br>Both and that zellow hair,<br>Than Lord Barnard, and a' his lands,<br>As they lig here and thair.'<br>And she has tain her Gill Morice,<br>And kissd baith mouth and chin:<br>'I was once as fow of Gill Morice,<br>As the hip is o' the stean.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I got ze in my father's house,<br>Wi' mickle sin and shame;<br>I brocht thee up in gude grene wode,<br>Under the heavy rain.<br>Oft have I by thy cradle sitten <br>And fondly seen thee sleip;<br>But now I gae about thy grave,<br>The saut tears for to weip.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And syne she kissd his bluidy cheik,<br>And syne his bluidy chin:<br>'O better I loe my Gill Morice<br>Than a' my kith and kin!'<br>'Away, away, ze ill woman,<br>And an il deith mait ze dee:<br>Gin I had kend he'd bin zour son,<br>He'd neir bin slain for mee.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Obraid me not, my Lord Barnard!<br>Obraid me not for shame!<br>Wi' that saim speir, O pierce my heart!<br>And put me out o' pain.<br>Since nothing bot Gill Morice' head<br>Thy jealous rage could quell,<br>Let that saim hand now tak hir life<br>That neir to thee did ill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'To me nae after days nor nichts <br>Will eir be saft or kind;<br>I'll fill the air with heavy sighs,<br>And greet till I am blind.'<br>'Enouch of blood by me's bin spilt,<br>Seek not zour death frae me;<br>I rather lourd it had been my sel<br>Than eather him or thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'With waefo wae I hear zour plaint;<br>Sair, sair I rew the deid,<br>That eir this cursed hand of mine<br>Had gard his body bleid.<br>Dry up zour tears, my winsome dame,<br>Ze neir can heal the wound;<br>Ze see his head upon the speir, <br>His heart's blude on the ground.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I curse the hand that did the deid,<br>The heart that thocht the ill;<br>The feet that bore me wi' sik speid,<br>The comely zouth to kill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll ay lament for Gill Morice,<br>As gin he were mine ain;<br>I'll neir forget the dreiry day<br>On which the zouth was slain.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Olde+English">Anonymous Olde English</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=346019" data-title="Gil Morrice. A Scottish Ballad de Anonymous Olde English" data-description="Gil Morrice was an erles son,
His name it waxed wide:
It was nae for his great riches,
Nor zet was mickle pride;
Bot it was for a lady gay,
That livd on Carron side.

'Quhair sall I get a bonny boy,
That will win hose and shoen;
That will gae to L..."></div>
</div>
</div>