The Wife of Ushers Well There lived a lady in merry Scotland And she had sons all three And she sent them away into merry England To learn some English dee' They had not been in merry England For twelve months and one day When the news came back to their own mother dear Their bodies were in cold clay I will not believe in God, she said Nor Christ in eternity Till they send me back my own three sons The same as they went from me Old Christmas time was drawing near With the nights so dark and long This mother's own three sons came home Walking by the light of the moon And soon as they reached their own mothers gate So loud did the bell they ring There's none so ready as their own mother dear To loose these children in The cloth was spread, the meat put on. No meat, Lord, can we take. It's been so long, been so many a day Since you our dinner did make The bed was made, the sheets put on No rest, Lord, can we take It's been so long, been so many a day Since you or bed did make Then Christ did call for the roasted cock Feathered with His holy hand It crowed three times, all in the dish In the place where he did stand. He crowed three times, all in the dish Set at the table head And isn't it a pity, they all did say The quick should part from the dead So farewell stick, farewell stone Farewell to the maidens all Farewell to the nurse that gave us suck And down the tears did fall. Child #79 Recorded by John Roberts and Tony Barrand on Dark Ships of the Forest, Folk Legacy FSI-65. DC
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!