John Tams
John Tams - Bitter Withy lyrics
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as it fell out one high holiday small hail from the heaven did fall our saviour asked his mother mary mild if he might go and play at the ball at the ball – at the ball my own dear son it's time that you were gone but don't let me hear of any misdoings at night when you come home then it's up the hill and down the hill our sweet young saviours's run and there he spied three rich young lords all playing in the sun good morn – good morn – good morn said they good morning all said he now which of you three rich young lords is going to play at the ball with me but we're all lords' and ladies' sons born in our bower and hall and you aren't nothing but a poor maid's child born in an ox's stall but if you're all lords' and ladies' sons all born in your bower and hall i'll make you believe in your lattery end i'm an angel above you all so he built him a bridge from the beams of the sun and over the river ran he and these rich young lords followed after him and drowned they were all three then it's up the hill and down the hill these rich lord's mother run crying mary mild – fetch home you child for ours he has drown'd each one and so mary mild fetched home her child and she put him all across of her knee and it's with a handful of green withy twigs she's gave him lashes three oh the bitter withy – the bitter withy thou causest me to smart and the withy shall be the very tree to perish at the heart