Hi Jim,

My email is Richiematt7@gmail.com -- yes, Edward is next, probably on another thread. Here's the John Clare text, as originally given with a couple changes in brackets:

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Described as "Old Ballad of John Randall from my Father & Mothers memory with a few additions" and "my Fathers version was Lord Randall and my mothers John there was little other difference." The additions by Clare were clearly stanzas 5, 7 and 11. He made two nearly identical two copies, one with his mother's "John Randall" and the other with his father's "Lord Randle." The ballad is in three line form (1st line is not repeated):

Lord Randle (Old Ballad of John Randall)- written by John Clare (b. 1793) of Northampton from his parents versions c.1818, dating back through them to the late 1700s.

1. Where have you been to Lord Randle my son
A hawking & hunting mother make my bed soon
Im sick at my heart & fain would ly[e] down.

2. Where's you hawk and hound then Lord Randle my son
Theyre dinnerd & dead mother make my bed soon
Im sick at my heart & fain would lye down.

3. What had you for dinner Lord Randle my son
Eels in fresh broth mother make my bed soon,
Im sick at my heart & fain would ly[e] down.

4 What color were they Lord Randall my son
Their skins tehy were spotted mother make my bed soon,
Im sick at my heart & fain would lye down.

5. They swam in no river- Thye basked in the sun
& crawled in the hedge bottoms- O make my bed soon,
Im sick at my heart mother let me lie down.

6. O then your poisoned Lord Randall my son
It was my own sweetheart, mother make my bed soon,
Im sick at my heart & fain would lye down.

7. My hound eat the skins & fell ere he[a]d done [down]
At her door like a stranger, O make my bed soon,
Im sick at my heart & fain to lye down.

8. What will you leave [mother][1] Lord Randle my son
My lands and my livings mother make my bed soon,
Im sick at my heart & fain would lye down.

9. What leave you your brother Lord Randle my son
My coach and my horses mother make my bed soon,
Im sick at my heart & I fain would lye down.

10. What leave you your sweetheart Lord Randle my son
The curse of god mother O make my bed soon,
For Im sick at my heart & I fain would lye down.

11. My hawk on her hand looked for friends & and found none
Taking poison for kindness- O hear my will soon
For Im sick sad & weary & fain would lye down.

1. has "mother" in his mother's copy.

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Richie