Lord Lovel & Nancy Bell- (OH) 1839 Barry C (print)
[From British Ballad from Maine; 1929; Barry, Smyth, and Eckstorm. This is the second oldest print version, predating Child H, the British broadside, by 7 years.
R. Matteson 2014]
C. "Lord Lovel and Nancy Bell." Every-body's Songster. Printed and published by Sanford and Lott, Cleveland, 1839; pages 52-54.
1 Lord Lovel he 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.
2 Where are you going, Lord Lovel, she said,
O where are you going said she;
I'm going my lady Nancy Bell,
Strange country's for to see, see, see,
Strange country's for to see.
3 When will you be back Lord Lovel she said,
O when will you be back, said she;
In a year or two or three at the most,
I'll return to my fair Nancie cie, cie;
I'll return to my fair Nancy.
4 But he hadn't 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,
Lady Nancy Bell he would go see.
5 So he rode and he rode on his milk-white horse,
Till he came to London Town,
And there he heard St. Pancry's bell,
And the people all mourning round, round,
And the people all mourning round.
6 O what is the matter? Lord Lovel he said,
O what is the matter? said he.
A Lord's lady is dead, the woman replied,
And some call her lady Nancy cie, cie,
And some call her lady Nancy.
7. So he ordered the grave to be opened wide,
And the shroud to be turned down,
And there he kissed her clay cold lips,
Till the tears they came trickling down, down,
Till the tears they came trickling down.
8. 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,
Lord Lovel he died out of sorrow.
9. Lady Nancy was laid in St. Pancry's church,
Lord Lovel was laid close by her,
And out of her bosom there grew a red rose,
And out of her lover's a briar, riar, riar,
And out of her lover's a briar.
10. It grew and it grew to the church steeple top,
And then it could not grow any higher,
So there it entwined in a true lover's knot,
For all true lovers to admire, rier, rier,
For all true lovers to admire.