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I
A’ THE boys of merry Lincoln | |
| Were playing at the ba’, | |
| And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh, | |
| And he play’d o’er them a’. | |
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II
He kick’d the ba’ with his right foot, | 5 |
| And catch’d it wi’ his knee, | |
| And thro’-and-thro’ the Jew’s window | |
| He gar’d the bonny ba’ flee. | |
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III
He’s doen him to the Jew’s castell, | |
| And walk’d it round about; | 10 |
| And there he saw the Jew’s daughter | |
| At the window looking out. | |
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IV
‘Throw down the ba’, ye Jew’s daughter, | |
| Throw down the ba’ to me!’— | |
| ‘Never a bit,’ says the Jew’s daughter, | 15 |
| ‘Till up to me come ye.’— | |
| |
V
‘How will I come up? How can I come up? | |
| How can I come up to thee? | |
| I winna come up, I darena come up, | |
| Without my play-feres three.’ | 20 |
| |
VI
She’s ta’en her to the Jew’s garden, | |
| Where the grass grew long and green, | |
| She’s pu’d an apple red and white | |
| To wyle the pretty boy in. | |
| |
VII
She’s wyled him in through ae dark door, | 25 |
| And sae has she through nine; | |
| She’s laid him on a dressing table, | |
| And stickit him like a swine. | |
| |
VIII
And first came out the thick, thick blood, | |
| And syne came out the thin, | 30 |
| And syne came out the bonny heart’s blood; | |
| There was no more within. | |
| |
IX
She’s row’d him in a cake o’ lead, | |
| Bade him lie still and sleep; | |
| She’s thrown him into Our Lady’s draw-well, | 35 |
| Was fifty fathom deep. | |
| |
X
When bells were rung, and mass was sung, | |
| And a’ the bairns came hame, | |
| Then every lady had hame her son, | |
| But Lady Helen had nane. | 40 |
| |
XI
She’s ta’en her mantle her about, | |
| Her coffer by the hand, | |
| And she’s gone out to seek her son, | |
| And wander’d o’er the land. | |
| |
XII
She’s doen her to the Jew’s castell | 45 |
| Where a’ were fast asleep; | |
| Cries, ‘Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, | |
| I pray you to me speak!’ | |
| |
XIII
She near’d Our Lady’s deep draw-well, | |
| And fell down on her knee: | 50 |
| ‘Where’er ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh, | |
| I pray you speak to me!’— | |
| |
XIV
‘O the lead is wondrous heavy, mother, | |
| The well is wondrous deep; | |
| The little penknife sticks in my throat, | 55 |
| And I downa to ye speak. | |
| |
XV
‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear, | |
| Prepare my winding sheet, | |
| And at the back o’ merry Lincoln | |
| The morn I will you meet.’ | 60 |
| |
XVI
Now Lady Helen is gane hame, | |
| Made him a winding sheet, | |
| And at the back o’ merry Lincoln | |
| The dead corpse did her meet. | |
| |
XVII
And a’ the bells o’ merry Lincoln | 65 |
| Without men’s hands were rung; | |
| And a’ the books o’ merry Lincoln | |
| Were read without man’s tongue; | |
| And never was such a burial | |
| Sin’ Adam’s day begun. | 70 |
| | | GLOSS: ba’] ball, football. doen] betaken. play-feres] playfellows. row’d] wrapped. downa] cannot, have not the force to. |
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