| I have myself a silver blade
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| The edge is sharp the handle bone
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| A little thing of silver made
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| Now it’s the only thing I own
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| Once I knew a lordling fine
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| I heard him whistle as he rode
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| And I was bold to call him mine
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| The shoes upon his horse were gold
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| One look in my eyes and he
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| Bid me climb onto his horse
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| He asked if I’d his lady be
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| And go away forever more
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| He spoke of love songs in each kiss
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| And I who was a young girl then
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| Was promised every young girl’s bliss
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| Got up and rode away with him
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| He led me to his castle tall
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| With promises and jewels until
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| He led me through his castle hall
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| Then took my clothes and worked his will
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| And when he had and I lay there
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| From my head with a silver blade
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| He cut a lock of coal black hair
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| And bid me dress and go my way
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| But I marked well the silver blade
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| And where he set it when he did
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| And when his back was turned I laid
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| It buried deep beneath his ribs
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| I used my dagger as a spade
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| Where the thorns and lilacs grow
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| Cut the ground into a grave
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| In a place even God don’t know
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| And every evening I returned
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| To the place for him I’d chose
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| Until his skin had turned to worms
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| Wild dogs scattered his bones
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| And all I have of what I was
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| Is the memory of a maid
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| Who mistook a thief for love
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| But who gained a silver blade |