And as I rode by Dalton-hall,
Beneath the turrets high, A Maiden on the castle wall
Was singing merrily:
'O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green; I'd rather rove with Edmund there
Than reign our English queen.'
'If, Maiden, thou wouldst wend with me,
To leave both tower and town, Thou first must guess what life lead we
That dwell by dale and down. And if thou canst that riddle read,
As read full well you may, Then to the greenwood shalt thou speed,
As blythe as Queen of May.'
Yet sang she, 'Brignall banks are fair,
And Greta woods are green; I'd rather rove with Edmund there
Than reign our English queen.
I read you, by your bugle-horn
And by your palfrey good, I read you for a Ranger s\vorn
To keep the king's greenwood.' 'A Ranger, lady, winds his horn,
And 'tis at peep of light; His blast is heard at merry morn,
And mine at dead of night'
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