A merrie ballad, called, Christs kirk on the green This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A89092 of text R212157 in the English Short Title Catalog (Thomason 669.f.8[38]). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 10 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A89092 Wing M1851 Thomason 669.f.8[38] ESTC R212157 99870803 99870803 161089 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A89092) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 161089) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 245:669f8[38]) A merrie ballad, called, Christs kirk on the green James I, King of England, 1566-1625, attributed name. 1 sheet ([1] p.) Imprinted for Patrick Wilson, upon the Malt Mercat, [London] : anno 1643. Verse - "Was never in Scotland heard nor seen,". Attributed to King James I of Scotland by Thomason. Place of publication from Wing. Annotation on Thomason copy: "nou: 25". Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng Ballads, Scots -- 17th century. A89092 R212157 (Thomason 669.f.8[38]). civilwar no A merrie ballad, called, Christs kirk on the green. [James King of England] 1643 1607 3 0 0 0 0 0 19 C The rate of 19 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2007-07 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2007-08 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2009-01 Emma (Leeson) Huber Sampled and proofread 2009-01 Emma (Leeson) Huber Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion A merrie Ballad , Called , Christs Kirk on the Green . WAs never in Scotland heard nor seen , Such Dauncing , nor Deray : Neyther at Falkland on the Green ; Nor Peebles at the Play ; As was ( of Wooers , as I ween ) At Christs Kirk on a day . For there came Kittie washen clean , In her New Gown of Gray ; So gay that day . To daunce these Damisels them dight ; These Lasses light of laits . Their Gloues were of the raffall right ; Their Shooes were of the straits . Their Kirtles were of Lincoln light , Well prest with manie plaits . They were so nyce , when men them night , They squeald lyke anie Gaits , Full lowd that day . Of all these Maydens myld as meed , Was none so gimp as Gillie : As anie Rose , her rude was reed : Her lyre was lyke the Lillie , But yealow , yealow , was her head , And shee of Loue so sillie , Though all her kin had sworn her dead , Shee would haue none but Willie , Alone that day . Shee scorned Iock , and Skripped at him , And murgeond him with mocks . Hee would haue lov'd her , she would not let him , For all his yealow locks . Hee cherisht her : shee bade goe chat him , Shee counted him not two clocks : So shamfullie his short Iacke set him , His legs were lyke two rocks , Or rungs that day Tom Luter was their Minstrell meet , Good Lord , how hee could launce : Hee playd so shrill , and sang so sweet ; Whyle Towsie took a Trance . Old Light-foot there hee could forleet , And counterfayted France . Hee held him lyke a man discreet : And vp the Morries Dance , Hee took that day . Then Stien came stepping in with stends : No rink might him arrest . Play-foot did bob with manie bends . For Masie hee made request . Hee lap , whyle hee lay on his lends : And rysing , so was prest , Whyle hee did hoast , at both the ends , For Honour of the Feast , And Daunce that day . Then Robin Roy began to revell . And Towsie to him drugged . Let bee ( quod Iock ) and call'd him jevell ; And by the tayll him tugged . Then Kensie cleiked him to a kevell . God wots , if they two lugged . They parted there vpon a nevell . Men sayd , that hayr was rugged , Between them two . With that , a Friend of his cryde ; Fye ! And foorth an Arrow drew . Hee forged it so forcfullie , The Bow in flinders flew . Such was the grace of God , trow I : For had the Tree been true , Men sayd , who knew his Archerie , That hee had slayn anew , Belyue that day . A yape young man that stood him neist , Soon bent his Bow in yre : And etled the Bairn in at the breist , The Bolt flew over the Byre : And cryde , Fye ! Hee had slayn a Priest , A myle beyond the Myre . Both Bow and Bag from him hee keist , And fled as fast as Fyre , From flint that day . An Hastie Kinsman , called Harrie , That was an Archer keen : Tyde vp a Taikell , withoutten tarrie ; I trow the man was tein . I wot not whether his hand did varie , Or his Fo , was his Friend . But hee scaped by the might of Marie , As men that nothing meand , But good that day . Then Lowrie , lyke a Lyon lap : And soon a Flayn can fedder ; Hee heght to pierce him at the pap , Thereon to wed a Wedder . Hee hit him on the womb a wap : It buft lyke anie Bledder . Hee scaped so , such was his hap , His Doublet was of Ledder , Full fyne that day . The buff so bousteouslie abaist him , That hee to earth dusht down . The other man for dead then left him , And fled out of the town . The wyues came foorth , and vp they reft him , And found lyf in the Lown . Then with three routs there they raysd him , And cured him out of sown , Fra hand that day . The Millar was of manlie make , To meet with him , it was no mowes . There durst no Ransom there him take ; So nowed hee their nowes . The Bushment haill about him brake , And bickered him with Bowes . Then trayterouslie behind his back , They hacked him on the howe 's , behind that day . Then Hutchen , with an hazell Ryce : To red , gan through them rummill , Hee mudled them down , lyke anie myce , Hee was no Bettie bummill . Though hee was wight , hee was not wyse , With such jutours to jummill : For from his thumb , there flew a slyce , Whyle hee cryde , Barlafummill : I 'm slayn this day . When that hee saw his blood so red , To flee might no man let him . Hee trowd it had been for old fead ; Hee thought , and bade ; Haue at him . Hee made his feet defend his head ; The far fayrer it set him : Whyle hee was past out of their plead , They must bee swift that gat him , through speed that day . Two that were headsmen of the heard , They rusht on other lyke Rams . The other four which were vnfeard , Beat on with barrow trams . And where their gobs were vngeard , They got vpon the gams : While al the blood-born was their beard , As they had wurried Lambs , most lyke that day . They girnd , and glowred , all at ones : Each Gossop other grieved . Some streiked stings , some gathred stones : Some fled , and some relieved . Their Menstrill vsed quyet means ; That day hee wyselie prieved . For hee came home with vnbirsd bones , Where Fighters were mischieved , full ill that day . With forks , and flaylls , then let they flaps , And flew together with frigs : with bougers of barns they pierst blew caps , Whyle of their Beirns they made brigs . The Reire rose rudelie with their raps , When Rungs were layd on rigs . Then Wyues came foorth with cryes and claps , See where my Lyking ligs , full low this day . The black Sowter of Briath was bowden , His Wys hang by his waist : His bodie was in Bleck , all browden : Hee girned lyke a gaist . Her glittring hayr , that was so gowden , His loue fast for him laist : That for her sake hee was vnyowden , Whyle hee a myle was chaist , and more that day . When they had beird lyke bayted Bulls : The Bone-fyres burnt in baylls : They grew as meek as anie Mules , That wearied were with Mails . For tyrdness these forfoughten foolls ▪ Fell down lyke flaughtring flaylls : Fresh men came in , and haild their dules , And dang them down in daills , bedeine that day . The Wyues then gaue an hiddeous yell , When all these Younkers yocked : As fierce as Flags of fyre-flaughts fell : Friecks to the field they flocked . Then Karls with clubs did other quel ▪ On breast , whyle blood out bocked : So rudelie rang the Common-bell , That all the Steeple rocked , for dread that day . By this , Tom Taylor was in his geare ▪ When hee heard the Common-bell : Hee sayd , hee should make them all on steare , When hee came there him sell . Hee went to fight with such a feare , Whyle to the ground hee fell . A Wyf then hit him on the eare , With a great knocking Mell , feld him that day . The Bryde-groom brought a pynt of Aill ; And bade the Pyper drink it . Drink it ( quod hee ) and it so staill ? I shrow mee , if I think it . The Bryde her Maydens stood near by , And sayd , It was not blinked . And Bartagasie , the Bryde so gay , Upon them fast shee winked , full soon that day . When all was done , Dick with an Ax , Came foorth to fell a Foother . Quoth he , where is yon hoorson smakes , Right now that hurt my Brother ? His Wyf bad him , Goe home , Gib glakes , And so did Meg his Mother . Hee turn'd , and gaue them both their pakes : For hee durst ding none other , But them that day . FINIS . Imprinted for PATRICK WILSON , Upon the Malt-Mercat . ANNO 1643.