%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> LIFE and DEATH / OF THE / Piper of Kilbarchan / OR, / The Epitaph of Habbie Simpson, / He made his Cheeks as red as Crimson, / Who on his Dron bore bonny Flags, / And babed when he blew the Bags, Sempill, Robert University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 07/14/2014 34154

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R187429 Kilbarchan now my say alas! / FOr she hath lost her game & grace Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 21 LIFE and DEATH / OF THE / Piper of Kilbarchan / OR, / The Epitaph of Habbie Simpson, / He made his Cheeks as red as Crimson, / Who on his Dron bore bonny Flags, / And babed when he blew the Bags, LIFE and DEATH OF THE Piper of Kilbarchan OR, Epitaph of Habbie Simpson, He made his Cheeks as red as Crimson, Who on his Dron bore bonny Flags, And babed when he blew the Bags Sempill, Robert ?-?

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 7/14/2014 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America death entertainments race/ ethnicity Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 7/14/2014 1:35:46 PM XBallad Chow, Jeremy Created XML Version of Ballad 7/14/2014 1:35:46 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/14/2014 1:35:46 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Doran, Thomas Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/14/2014 1:35:46 PM Transcriptionist Two Webb, Ali Transcription of ballad manuscript 7/14/2014 1:35:46 PM Transcriptionist One Decker, Gabriel D. Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/28/2013 Checker Eric Nebeker Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 3/14/2014 Checker Kristen McCants Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/3/2012 Bibliographer Olivia Miller Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 1/17/2014 Checker Jeremy Chow Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">LIFE and DEATH </hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OF THE</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left">Piper of Kilbarchan </seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">The Epitaph of</hi> Habbie Simpson,</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">He made his Cheeks as red as Crimson,</hi></hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Who on his Dron bore bonny Flags,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="8" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">And babed when he blew the Bags,</hi></hi></seg>
KIlbarchan now my say alas! For she hath lost her game & grace Both Trixie and the Maiden-trace But what remeed? For no Man can supply his place, Hab Simphon's dead, Now who shall play the day it daws Or hunts up when the Cock he craws Or who can for our Kirk Town Cause, stand us in stead? On Bag-pipes now no body blaws, Sen Habbie's dead, Or who shall cause our Shearers shear Who will bend up the Brags of Weir? Bring in the Bells or good play Meir, In time of need, Hab Simpson could what needs you spear But now he's dead. So kindly to his Neighbour neist, At Beltan and Saint Barchans Feast He blew and then held up his Breast, as he were weid, But now we need not him arrest? For Habbie's dead, At Fairs he play'd before the Spear-men All gayly graithed in their Geer-men, Steel Bonners, Jacts and Swords so cleat then Like any Bead. Now who will play before such Weirmen Sen Habbie's dead, At Clark playes when he wont to come His Pipe play'd trimly to the Drum: Like Bikes of bees he gart it bum And turn his Reed: Now all our Pipers my sing dum Sen Habbie's dead, And at Horse-races many a day, Before the Black, the Brown and Gray He gart his Pipe when he did play, Both Skirl and Skried:
Now all such pastime's quite away Sen Habbie's dead, He counted was a wall'd wight Man, And fiercely at Foot-ball he ran; At every Game the gree he wan, For pith and speed The like of Habbie was not then, But now he's dead, And then beside his valiant Acts, At Brydels he wan many placks. He babbed ay behind Folks backs, And shook his Head, Now we want many merry Cracks Sen Habbie's dead. He was convoyer of the bride, With Kittock hanging at his side, About the Kirk he thought a pride the Ring to Lead But now she may go but a Guide For Habbie's dead. So well's he keeped his Decorum. And all the steps of Whip-meg morum, He slew a man and wae's me for him And bare the feed. But yet the man wan Hame before him and was not dead, Ay when he play'd the Lasses leugh, To see him toothless, old and teuch He wan his Pipes beside Barcleugh withoutten dread, Which after wan him Gear enough But now he's dead. Alas for him my heart is fare, For of his Springs I got a Share, At every play, Race, Feast and Fair, But Guile or Greed We need not look for piping mair, Sen Habbie's dead,
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