Geordie As I walked out over London Bridge One misty morning early I overheard a fair, pretty maid Was lamenting for her Geordie Oh my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain Tis not the chain of many He was born of the king's royal blood And lost to a virtuous lady Go bridle me my milk white steed Go bridle me my pony I will ride to London's court To plead for the life of my Geordie Oh my Geordie never stole cow nor calf He never hurted any He stole sixteen of the King's royal deer And sold them in Boeny Six pretty babies have I borne The seventh lies in my body I'd freely part with them one and all If you'll spare me the life of my Geordie The judge looked over his left shoulder He said, Fair maid, I'm sorry Said, Fair maid, you must be gone For I cannot pardon Geordie Oh my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain Tis not the chain of many He was born of the king's royal blood And lost to a virtuous lady Child #209 sung by Baez, Carthy, MacColl SOF
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