II.
IV
V
Winter 2005 no. 55
Lord Bateman vos a noble Lord,
A noble Lord of high degree;
He shipped his-self all aboard of a ship,
Some foreign country for to see.[l]
For the notes to this beautiful Poem, see the end of the work.
>r-i islte-1<rysv!.<nt& to
Jus ew-b^rka-Uoru
UJie "Juirkis only tlMLQhbcr d.f3jyr0 a-cha to
iïuligato tive,Sa[|mn.£S ofeio-r(i hitz-TWd-Xl 1-,
He sail-ed east, he sail-ed vest,
Until he come to famed Tur-key,
Vere he vos taken, and put to prisin,
Until his life was quite wea-ry.
III.
All in this prisin there grew a tree,
O! there it grew so stout and strong,
Vere he vos chain-ed all by the middle
Until his life vos almost gone.
Tru. UVtïcs cUu^km- express e,s avjts.lv
is Jtyrcl Baftmn, wa-s ft-ers,
This Turk[2] he had one ounly darter,
The fairest my two eyes e'er see,
She Steele the keys of her father's prisin,
And swore Lord Bateman she would let go free.
O she took him to her father's cellar,
And guv to him the best of vine;
And ev'ry holth she dronk unto him,
Vos, "I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!"[3]
7fve VYovf,
The Dutch Dickensian Volume XXV
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