Lyrics Little Sir Hugh - Alasdair Roberts

Little Sir Hugh

The rain comes down in merry Lincoln
So does it down the Pa
So does the lads of merry Lincoln
when they play at the ball
And up and spoke the Jew’s daughter
'Oh, will you come in and dine?'
'I can’t come in, I won’t come in
Without my playfairs nine'
She’s pulled an apple green and red
To lure the young thing in
She’s pulled an apple red and green
And that the sweet bairn did win
She’s taken out her wee penknife
Hung low down by her gore
She’s twined the young thing of his life
And word he never spoke more
And out and come thick, thick blood
And out and come the thin
And out and come the bonny heart’s blood
there was no life left in
When bells were run and mass was sung
Went every lady home
And every lady had her young son
But lady Helen she had none
She wrapped her mantle her about
And sore began to weep
And she’s run up to the Jew’s draw well
Was fifty fathoms deep
'My bonny Hugh, my dear Sir Hugh
I pray you to me speak'
'Oh lady, run to the deep draw well
If you you only son would seek'
So she’s run up to the deep draw well
And knelt down on her knee
'My bonny Hugh, my dear Sir Hugh
I pray you speak to me'
'The lead is wondrous heavy mother
The well is wondrous deep
A keen penknife sticks in my heart
And a word I dare not speak
'Go home, go home my mother dear
And fetch my winding sheet
And at the back of merry Lincoln
It’s there we two shall meet
'Go home, go home my mother dear
And fetch my winding sheet
And bury me in the sepulchre
With the Bible at my feet'