Alasdair Roberts
Little Sir Hugh
The rain comes down in merry LincolnSo does it down the PaSo does the lads of merry Lincolnwhen they play at the ballAnd up and spoke the Jew's daughter'Oh, will you come in and dine?''I can't come in, I won't come inWithout my playfairs nine'She's pulled an apple green and redTo lure the young thing inShe's pulled an apple red and greenAnd that the sweet bairn did winShe's taken out her wee penknifeHung low down by her goreShe's twined the young thing of his lifeAnd word he never spoke moreAnd out and come thick, thick bloodAnd out and come the thinAnd out and come the bonny heart's bloodthere was no life left inWhen bells were run and mass was sungLetras de cancionesWent every lady homeAnd every lady had her young sonBut lady Helen she had noneShe wrapped her mantle her aboutAnd sore began to weepAnd she's run up to the Jew's draw wellWas fifty fathoms deep'My bonny Hugh, my dear Sir HughI pray you to me speak''Oh lady, run to the deep draw wellIf you you only son would seek'So she's run up to the deep draw wellAnd knelt down on her knee'My bonny Hugh, my dear Sir HughI pray you speak to me''The lead is wondrous heavy motherThe well is wondrous deepA keen penknife sticks in my heartAnd a word I dare not speak'Go home, go home my mother dearAnd fetch my winding sheetAnd at the back of merry LincolnIt's there we two shall meet'Go home, go home my mother dearAnd fetch my winding sheetAnd bury me in the sepulchreWith the Bible at my feet'
From Letras Mania