Lord Lovel- Hadaway's Select Songser (PA) 1840

Lord Lovel- Hadaway's Select Songster (PA) 1840

[From: Hadaway's Select Songster edited by T. H. Hadaway, comedian; 1840; Philadelphia, PA.

Hadaway's Select Songster likely is the second publication of this ballad, the earliest known printed copy of "Lord Lovel" is in The New England Songster, Portsmouth, NH, Nathaniel March and Co., 1832, pp. 86-88.

Note the spelling of lovers as "lovier's" in the last two stanzas.

R. Matteson 2014]


LORD LOVEL
Sung by Mr. Howard

Lord Lovel stood at his castle gate,
Combing his milk-white steed,
When up came Lady Nancy Bell,
To wish her lover good speed, speed, speed,
Wishing her lover good speed.

"Where are you going, Lord Lovel?" she said,
"Oh, where are you going?" said she;
"I am going, my Lady Nancy Bell,
Strange countries for to see, see, see."
&c.

"When will you be back, Lord Lovel?" said she,
"Oh, when will you be back?" said she;
"In a year or two, or three at most,
I'll return to my fair Nancy-cy-cy."
&c.


But he had not been gone a year and a day,
Strange countries for to see,
When languishing thoughts came into his head,
Lady Nancy Bell he would go see-see-see
&c.

So he rode and he rode on his milk-white horse,
Till he came to London town,
And there he heard St. Pancras's bells,
And the people all mourning round-round,
&c.

Oh, what is the matter, Lord Lovel, he said,
Oh, what is the matter? said he;
A Lord's lady is dead the woman replied,
And some call her lady Nancy-cy-cy,
&c.

So he ordered the grave to be opened wide,
And the shroud to be turned down;
And there he kiss'd her clay cold lips,
Till the tears came trickling down-down,
&c. 

Lady Nancy she died as it might be to day,
Lord Lovel he died to-morrow;  
Lady Nancy she died out of pure, pure grief
Lord Lovel he died out of sorrow-row-row,
&c.

Lady Nancy was laid in St. Pancras's Church,
Lord Lovel was laid in the choir,
And out of her bosom there grew a red rose,
And out of her lovier's a briar-riar-riar,
&c.

It grew, and it grew, to the church steeple top,
And then it could grow no higher;
So there entwined in a true loviers' knot,
For all true loviers to admire-ire-ire,
&c.