| The king he has been a poor prisoner
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| And a prisoner long in Spain
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| While Willie o' Winsbury
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| Has lain long with his daughter at home
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| «What ails you, what ails you, my daughter dear
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| Why you look so pale and wan?
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| Oh, have you had any sore sickness
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| Or yet been sleeping wi' a man?»
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| «I have not had any sore sickness
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| Nor yet been sleeping wi' a man
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| Twas grieving for you, my father dear
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| After biding so long in Spain.»
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| «Well cast off, cast off your berry-brown gown
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| Stand naked upon a stone
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| That I may know you by your shape
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| Whether you be a maiden or nae.»
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| And she’s cast off her berry-brown gown
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| Stood naked upon a stone
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| Her haunches were round and her apron was short
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| Her face it was pale and wan
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| «Oh, is he a lord or a duke or a knight
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| Or a man of birth and fame
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| Or is he one of my serving men
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| That’s lately come out of Spain?»
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| «He wasnae a lord, nor a duke or a knight
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| Nor a man of birth and fame
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| But he is Willie o' Winsbury
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| I could bide no longer alone.»
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| Well the king has called on his merry men all
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| His merry men thirty and three
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| Saying, «Bring me Willie o' Winsbury
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| For hanged he shall be.»
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| But when he came the king before
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| He was clad all in the red silk
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| His hair it was like the strands of gold
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| His skin it was white as milk
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| «Well, it is nae wonder,» says the king
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| «My daughter’s heart you did win
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| For if I were a woman, as I am a man
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| My bedfellow you would have been.»
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| «And will you marry my daughter Janet
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| By the truth of your right hand?
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| And will you marry my daughter Janet?
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| And be a lord of the land.»
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| «Yes, I will marry your daughter Janet
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| By the truth of my right hand
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| And I will marry your daughter Janet
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| But I won’t be a lord of the land.»
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| So he’s mounted her on a milk-white steed
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| And himself on a dapple grey
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| And he’s made her a lady of as much land
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| As they could ride in a long summer’s day |