Lord THOMAS and Fair ELLINOR, Together with the Downfall of the Brown Girl.  
To a pleasant Tune, called, Lord Thomas, etc.  
 
 

LOrd Thomas he was a bold forester,  
and a chaser of the King's dear;  
Fair Ellionor was a fair woman,  
and Lord Thomas he loved her dear.   

Come riddle my riddle, dear Mother, he said,  
and riddle us both as one,  
Whether I shall marry with Fair Ellinor,  
and let the Brown Girl alone?   

The Brown Girl she has got houses and lands,  
and Fair Ellinor she has got none;  
Therefore I charge you on my blessing,  
bring me the Brown Girl home.   

And as it befell on a high holiday,  
as many did more beside,  
Lord Thomas he went to Fair Ellinor,  
that should have been his bride.   

But when he came to Fair Ellinor 's bower,  
he knocked there at the ring;  
But who was so ready as Fair Ellinor,  
for to let Lord Thomas in.   

What news, what news, Lord Thomas, she said,  
what news hast thou brought unto me?  
I am come to bid thee to my wedding,  
and that is bad news to thee.   
 
 
 

Oh!! God forbid, Lord Thomas, she said,  
that such a thing should be done;  
I thought to have been thy bride my ownself,  
and you to have been the bridegroom.   

Come riddle my riddle, dear Mother, she said,  
and riddle it all in one,  
Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas' wedding,  
or whether I shall tarry at home?   

There's many that are your friends, daughter,  
and many that are your f●e;  
Therefore I charge you on my blessing,  
to Lord Thomas' wedding don't go.   

There's many that are my friends, Mother,  
if a thousand more were my foe,  
Betid my life, betid my death,  
to Lord Thomas' wedding I'll go.   

She clothed herself in gallant attire,  
and her merry men all in green;  
And as they rid through every town,  
they took her to have been a queen.   

But when she came to Lord Thomas 's gate,  
she knocked there at the rin●;  
But who was so ready as Lord Thomas,  
to let Fair Ellinor in.   

Is this your bride? Fair Ellen she said,  
methinks she looks wondrous brown:  
Thou mightst have had as fair a woman  
as ever trod on the ground.   

Despise her not, Fair Ellen, she said,  
despise her not now unto me:  
For better I love thy little-finger,  
than all her whole body.   

This brown bride had a little penknife,  
that was both long and sharp,  
And betwixt the short ribs and the long  
pricked Fair Ellinor to the heart.   

Oh! Christ now save thee, Lord Thomas he said,  
methinks thou look'st wondrous wan;  
Thou used for to look with as fresh a colour,  
as ever the sun shined on.   

Oh art thou blind! Lord Thomas, she said,  
or canst thou not very well see?  
Oh! dost thou not see my own heart's blood  
runs trickling down my knee?   

Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side,  
as he walked about the hall,  
He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders,  
and he threw it against the wall.   

He see the hilt against the ground,  
and the paint against his heart;  
There was never three lovers that ever met,  
more sooner they did depart.    

This may be Printed, Ro. L' Estrange.   

LONDON: Printed for A. M. W. O. and T. Thackeray, at the Angel in Duck-lane.