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And fast to the bent are they gane.
To speir for the filly poor man.
She gaed to the bed, whair the beggar lay,
For some of our geir will be gane.
I have lodgd a leal poor man.
Since naithings awa, as we can learn,
And bid her come quickly ben.
Shes aff with the gaberlunzie-man.
O fy gar ride, and fy gar rin,
Ver. 29. The Carline. Other copies.
The wearyfou gaberlunzie-man.
did curse and did ban.
Mean time far hind out owre the lee,
Cut frae a new cheese a whang.
gae her his aith, Quo dhe, to leave thee, I will be laitli,
My winsome gaberlunzie-man.
O kend my minny I were wi’ 2011,
Afur the gaberlunzie-mon.
And carrie the gaberlunzie on.
Wi' kauk and keel, Ill win zour bread,
The gaberlunzie to carrie-o.
While we fall sing and be merrie-o.
ON THOMAS LORD CROMWELL.
It is ever the fate of a disgraced minister to be forsaken by his friends, and insulted by his enemies, always reckoning among the latter the giddy inconstant multitude. We have here a Spurn at fallen greatness from some angry partisan of declining popery, who could never forgive the downfall of their Diana, and loss of their craft. The ballad seems to have been composed between the time of Crom. well's commitment to the tower, June 11, 1940, and that of his being beheaded July 28, following. A short interval! but Henry's passion for Catharine Howard would admit of no delay. Notavithstanding our libeller, Cromwell had
many excellent qualities; his great fault was too much obsequiousness to the arbitrary will of his master; but let it be considered that this master had raised him from obfcurity, and that the high born nobility bad shewn him the way in every kind of mean and servile compliance.--The original copy printed at London in 1540, is intitled, “ A newe ballade “ made of Thomas Crumwel, called TrollE ON AWAY.” To it is prefixed this difiich by way of burthen,
Trolle on away, trolle on awaye.
OTH man and chylde is glad to here tell
Of that false traytoure Thomas Crumwell, Now that he is set to learne to spell.
Synge trolle on away.
When fortune lokyd the in thy face,
Both plate and chalys came to thy fyst,
Both crust and crumme came thorowe thy handes,
Fyrfte when kynge Henry, God faue his grace!
Hys grace was euer of gentyll nature,
Thou dyd not remembre, false heretyke,
Thou woldyft not learne to knowe these thre;
All they, that were of the new trycke,
25 Agaynst the churche thou baddest them stycke; Wherfore nowe thou laste touchyd the quycke.
Bothe facramentes and sacramentalles
30 Synge, &c.
Of what generacyon thou were no tonge can tell,
'I hou woldett neuer to vertue applye, But conetyd euer to clymme to bye,
35 And nowe hase thou trodden thy shoo awrye.
Synge, &c. Ver. 32. i. e. Cain, or Ismael. See leloru, the Note, Book II. No. III. fianza 3d.