“He had horse and harness for them all,
Goodly steeds were all milke-white:
O the golden bands an about their necks,
And their weapons, they were all alike....”
And, by the way, do not touches like these often reveal the stamp of individuals upon pieces which are loosely said to have been “composed by the folk”? They quite do away with the notion that ballads were composed by a number of people, after the fashion of a story in the game of “Consequences.” In fact, it is one of the pleasures of reading ballads to watch for those things which show us the heart of one man who stands out by himself. Such a one was the man who said—
“I dreamt I pu’d the heather green
Wi’ my true love on Yarrow.”
And who was that unhappy one who served a king for seven years and only once saw the king’s daughter, and that was through a gimlet-hole? Two were putting on her gown, two putting on her shoes, five were combing down her hair—
“Her neck and breast was like the snow—
Then from the bore I was forced to go.”