| George Collins walked out
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| One May morning
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| When May was all in bloom
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| And who should he see
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| But a fair pretty maid
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| Washing her white marble stone
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| She whooped
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| She hollered
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| She called so loud
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| She waved her lily-white hand
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| «Come hither to me
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| George Collins,» cried she
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| «For your life, it won’t last you long.»
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| He put his bent bow down by Brent-side
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| And across the river sprang he
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| He gripped his hands
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| Round her middle so small
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| And he kissed her red ruby lips
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| Then he rode home to his father’s own house
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| Loudly knocked at the ring
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| «Arise, arise my father!» |
| he cried
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| «Rise and please let me in!»
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| «Oh arise, arise, dear mother,» he cried
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| «Rise and make up my bed!»
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| «Arise, arise, dear sister,» he cried
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| «Get a napkin to tie round my head.»
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| «For, if I should die tonight
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| As I suppose I shall
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| Please bury me 'neath that white marble stone
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| That lies 'neath fair Ellender’s hall.»
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| Fair Ellender sat all in her hall
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| Weaving her silk so fine
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| Who should she see, but the finest corpse
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| That ever her eyes shone on
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| Oh, Fair Ellender called on her head maid:
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| (Oh, oh George Collins…
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| Oh, oh, his sake…) (x4)
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| «Whose corpse is this oh so fine?»
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| She made her reply:
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| «George Collins' corpse;
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| An old, true lover of mine.»
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| «Put him down, my brave little boys
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| And open his coffin so wide
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| That I may kiss his red ruby lips,»
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| (Oh George Collins' sake…)
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| «Ten thousand times they’ve kissed mine.»
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| The news being carried to fair London town
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| Wrote on London gate
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| «Six pretty maids died all in one night
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| And all for George Collins' sake.» |