Brown William, The Power of the Harp, and Other Ballads

by Unknown

The lord of our island, Duke Athol the great,
They would gladly persuade, with their parle and their prate,
The corner-stones high of his house to lay low,
And to King, Duke and Mona are foemen, I trow.

THE POWER OF THE HARP

Sir Peter would forth from the castle ride,
Grieving and weeping did sit his young bride.
Belov’d of my heart, wherefore sorrowest thou so?

“Art grieving for saddle, or steed black or white,
Or because I have wed thee art thou in this plight?”
Belov’d of my heart, wherefore sorrowest thou so?

“I grieve not for saddle, or steed black or white,
Nor because thou hast wed me am I in this plight.”
Belov’d of my heart, wherefore sorrowest thou so?

“Dost sorrow because little wealth I have got,
Or dost sorrow because thine equal I’m not?”
Belov’d of my heart, wherefore sorrowest thou so?

“I sorrow not because little of wealth thou hast got,
Nor grieve I because thou mine equal art not.”
Belov’d of my heart, wherefore sorrowest thou so?

“Dost sorrow because thy fond father is dead,
Or dost sorrow because thou’rt no longer a maid?”
Belov’d of my heart, wherefore sorrowest thou so?

“I grieve not because my dear father is dead,
Nor sorrow I because that I am not a maid.”
Belov’d of my heart, wherefore sorrowest thou so?

“I grieve and I weep, and to grieve I have need,
I know but too well what for me is decreed.”
Belov’d of my heart, wherefore sorrowest thou so?