Sacred Texts Legends & Sagas England Index Previous Next
155A.1 FOUR and twenty bonny boys Were playing at the ba, And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh, And he playd oer them a’. 155A.2 He kickd the ba with his right foot, And catchd it wi his knee, And throuch-and-thro the Jew’s window He gard the bonny ba flee. 155A.3 He’s doen him to the Jew’s castell, And walkd it round about; And there he saw the Jew’s daughter, At the window looking out. 155A.4 ‘Throw down the ba, ye Jew’s daughter, Throw down the ba to me!’ ‘Never a bit,’ says the jew’s daughter, ‘Till up to me come ye.’ 155A.5 ‘How will I come up? How can I come up? How can I come to thee? For as ye did to my auld father, The same ye’ll do to me.’ 155A.6 She’s gane to her father’s garden, And pu’d an apple red and green; ’Twas a’ to wyle him sweet Sir Hugh, And to entice him in. 155A.7 She’s led him in through ae dark door, And sae has she thro nine; She’s laid him on a dressing-table, And stickit him like a swine. 155A.8 And first came out the thick, thick blood, And syne came out the thin, And syne came out the bonny heart’s blood; There was nae mair within. 155A.9 She’s rowd him in a cake o lead, Bade him lie still and sleep; She’s thrown him in Our Lady’s draw-well, Was fifty fathom deep. 155A.10 When bells were rung, and mass was sung, And a’ the bairns came hame, When every lady gat hame her son, The Lady Maisry gat nane. 155A.11 She’s taen her mantle her about, Her coffer by the hand, And she’s gane out to seek her son, And wanderd oer the land. 155A.12 She’s doen her to the Jew’s castell, Where a’ were fast asleep: ‘Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh, I pray you to me speak.’ 155A.13 She’s doen her to the Jew’s garden, Thought he had been gathering fruit: ‘Gin ye be there, my sweet Sir Hugh, I pray you to me speak.’ 155A.14 She neard Our Lady’s deep draw-well, Was fifty fathom deep: ‘Whareer ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh, I pray you to me speak.’ 155A.15 ‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear, Prepare my winding-sheet, And at the back o merry Lincoln The morn I will you meet.’ 155A.16 Now Lady Maisry is gane hame, Made him a winding sheet, And at the back o merry Lincoln The dead corpse did her meet. 155A.17 And a’ the bells of merry Lincoln Without men’s hands were rung, And a’ the books o merry Lincoln Were read without man’s tongue, And neer was such a burial Sin Adam’s days begun.
155B.1 THE rain rins doun through Mirry-land toune, Sae dois it doune the Pa; Sae dois the lads of Mirry-land toune, Whan they play at the ba. 155B.2 Than out and cam the Jewis dochter, Says, Will ye cum in and dine? ‘I winnae cum in, I cannae cum in, Without my play-feres nine.’ 155B.3 Scho powd an apple reid and white, To intice the young thing in: Scho powd an apple white and reid, And that the sweit bairne did win. 155B.4 And scho has taine out a little pen-knife, And low down by her gair; Scho has twin’d the yong thing and his life, A word he nevir spak mair. 155B.5 And out and cam the thick, thick bluid, And out and cam the thin, And out and cam the bonny herts bluid; Thair was nae life left in. 155B.6 Scho laid him on a dressing-borde, And drest him like a swine, And laughing said, Gae nou and pley With your sweit play-feres nine. 155B.7 Scho rowd him in a cake of lead, Bade him lie stil and sleip; Scho cast him in a deip draw-well, Was fifty fadom deip. 155B.8 Whan bells wer rung, and mass was sung, And every lady went hame, Than ilka lady had her yong sonne, Bot Lady Helen had nane. 155B.9 Scho rowd hir mantil hir about, And sair, sair gan she weip, And she ran into the Jewis castel, Whan they wer all asleip. 155B.10 ‘My bonny Sir Hew, my pretty Sir Hew, I pray thee to me speik:’ ‘O lady, rinn to the deip draw-well, Gin ye your sonne wad seik.’ 155B.11 Lady Helen ran to the deip draw-well, And knelt upon her kne: ‘My bonny Sir Hew, an ye be here, I pray thee speik to me.’ 155B.12 ‘The lead is wondrous heavy, mither, The well is wondrous deip; A keen pen-knife sticks in my hert, A word I dounae speik. 155B.13 ‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither deir, Fetch me my windling sheet, And at the back o Mirry-land toun, It’s thair we twa sall meet.’
155C.1 FOUR and twenty bonny boys War playing at the ba; Then up and started sweet Sir Hew, The flower amang them a’. 155C.2 He hit the ba a kick wi’s fit, And kept it wi his knee, That up into the Jew’s window He gart the bonny ba flee. 155C.3 ‘Cast doun the ba to me, fair maid, Cast doun the ba to me;’ ‘O neer a bit o the ba ye get Till ye cum up to me. 155C.4 ‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew, Cum up and get the ba;’ ‘I canna cum, I darna cum, Without my play-feres twa.’ 155C.5 ‘Cum up, sweet Hew, cum up, dear Hew, Cum up and play wi me;’ ‘I canna cum, I darna cum, Without my play-feres three.’ 155C.6 She’s gane into the Jew’s garden, Where the grass grew lang and green; She powd an apple red and white, To wyle the young thing in. 155C.7 She wyl’d him into ae chamber, She wyl’d him into twa, She wyl’d him to her ain chamber, The fairest o them a’. 155C.8 She laid him on a dressing-board, Where she did sometimes dine; She put a penknife in his heart, And dressed him like a swine. 155C.9 Then out and cam the thick, thick blude, Then out and cam the thin; Then out and cam the bonny heart’s blude, Where a’ the life lay in. 155C.10 She rowd him in a cake of lead, Bad him lie still and sleep; She cast him in the Jew’s draw-well, Was fifty fadom deep. 155C.11 She’s tane her mantle about her head, Her pike-staff in her hand, And prayed Heaven to be her guide Unto some uncouth land. 155C.12 His mither she cam to the Jew’s castle, And there ran thryse about: ‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here, I pray ye to me speak.’ 155C.13 She cam into the Jew’s garden, And there ran thryse about; RR’rro sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here, I pray ye to me speak.’ 155C.14 She cam unto the Jew’s draw-well, And there ran thryse about: ‘O sweet Sir Hew, gif ye be here, I pray ye to me speak.’ 155C.15 ‘How can I speak, how dare I speak, How can I speak to thee? The Jew’s penknife sticks in my heart, I canna speak to thee. 155C.16 ‘Gang hame, gang hame, O mither dear, And shape my winding sheet, And at the birks of Mirryland town There you and I shall meet.’ 155C.17 Whan bells war rung, and mass was sung, And a’ men bound for bed, Every mither had her son, But sweet Sir Hew was dead.
155D.1 ARR’rr the boys of merry Linkim War playing at the ba, An up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh, The flower amang them a’. 155D.2 He keppit the ba than wi his foot, And catchd it wi his knee, And even in at the Jew’s window He gart the bonny ba flee. 155D.3 ‘Cast out the ba to me, fair maid, Cast out the ba to me!’ ‘Ah never a bit of it,’ she says, ‘Till ye come up to me. 155D.4 ‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh, Come up and get the ba’!’ ‘I winna come up, I mayna come [up], Without my bonny boys a’.’ 155D.5 ‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh, Come up and speak to me!’ ‘I mayna come up, I winna come up, Without my bonny boys three.’ 155D.6 She’s taen her to the Jew’s garden, Where the grass grew lang and green, She’s pu’d an apple reid and white, To wyle the bonny boy in. 155D.7 She’s wyl’d him in thro ae chamber, She’s wyl’d him in thro twa, She’s wyl’d him till her ain chamber, The flower out owr them a’. 155D.8 She’s laid him on a dressin-board, Whare she did often dine; She stack a penknife to his heart, And dressd him like a swine. 155D.9 She rowd him in a cake of lead, Bade him lie still and sleep; She threw him i the Jew’s draw-well, ’Twas fifty fathom deep. 155D.10 Whan bells was rung, and mass was sung, An a’ man bound to bed, Every lady got hame her son, But sweet Sir Hugh was dead.
155E.1 YESTERDAY was brave Hallowday, And, above all days of the year, The schoolboys all got leave to play, And little Sir Hugh was there. 155E.2 He kicked the ball with his foot, And kepped it with his knee, And even in at the Jew’s window He gart the bonnie ba flee. 155E.3 Out then came the Jew’s daughter: ‘Will ye come in and dine?’ ‘I winna come in, and I canna come in, Till I get that ball of mine. 155E.4 ‘Throw down that ball to me, maiden, Throw down the ball to me!’ ‘I winna throw down your ball, Sir Hugh, Till ye come up to me.’ 155E.5 She pu’d the apple frae the tree, It was baith red and green; She gave it unto little Sir Hugh, With that his heart did win. 155E.6 She wiled him into ae chamber, She wiled him into twa, She wiled him into the third chamber, And that was warst o’t a’. 155E.7 She took out a little penknife, Hung low down by her spare, She twined this young thing o his life, And a word he neer spak mair. 155E.8 And first came out the thick, thick blood, And syne came out the thin, And syne came out the bonnie heart’s blood, There was nae mair within. 155E.9 She laid him on a dressing-table, She dressd him like a swine; Says, Lie ye there, my bonnie Sir Hugh, Wi yere apples red and green! 155E.10 She put him in a case of lead, Says, Lie ye there and sleep! She threw him into the deep draw-well, Was fifty fathom deep. 155E.11 A schoolboy walking in the garden Did grievously hear him moan; He ran away to the deep draw-well, And fell down on his knee. 155E.12 Says, Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh, I pray you speak to me! If you speak to any body in this world, I pray you speak to me. 155E.13 When bells were rung, and mass was sung, And every body went hame, Then every lady had her son, But Lady Helen had nane. 155E.14 She rolled her mantle her about, And sore, sore did she weep; She ran away to the Jew’s castle, When all were fast asleep. 155E.15 She cries, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, I pray you speak to me! If you speak to any body in this world, I pray you speak to me. 155E.16 ‘Lady Helen, if ye want your son, I’ll tell ye where to seek; Lady Helen, if ye want your son, He’s in the well sae deep.’ 155E.17 She ran away to the deep draw-well, And she fell down on her knee, Saying, Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, I pray ye speak to me! If ye speak to any body in the world, I pray ye speak to me. 155E.18 ‘Oh the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother, The well it is wondrous deep; The little penknife sticks in my throat, And I downa to ye speak. 155E.19 ‘But lift me out o this deep draw-well, And bury me in yon churchyard; . . . . . . . . 155E.20 ‘Put a Bible at my head,’ he says, ‘And a Testament at my feet, And pen and ink at every side, And I’ll lie still and sleep. 155E.21 ‘And go to the back of Maitland town, Bring me my winding sheet; For it’s at the back of Maitland town That you and I shall meet.’ 155E.22 O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom, The broom that makes full sore, A woman’s mercy is very little, But a man’s mercy is more.
155F.1 ’TWAS on a summer’s morning Some scholars were playing at ball, When out came the Jew’s daughter And leand her back against the wall. 155F.2 She said unto the fairest boy, Come here to me, Sir Hugh; ‘No! I will not,’ said he, ‘Without my playfellows too.’ 155F.3 She took an apple out of her pocket, And trundled it along the plain, And who was readiest to lift it Was little Sir Hugh again. 155F.4 She took him by the milk-white han, An led him through many a hall, Until they came to one stone chamber, Where no man might hear his call. 155F.5 She set him in a goolden chair, And jaggd him with a pin, And called for a goolden cup To houl his heart’s blood in. 155F.6 She tuk him by the yellow hair, An also by the feet, An she threw him in the deep draw-well; It was fifty fadom deep. 155F.7 Day bein over, the night came on, And the scholars all went home; Then every mother had her son, But little Sir Hugh’s had none. 155F.8 She put a mantle about her head, Tuk a little rod in her han, An she says, Sir Hugh, if I fin you here, I will bate you for stayin so long. 155F.9 First she went to the Jew’s door, But they were fast asleep; An then she went to the deep draw-well, That was fifty fadom deep. 155F.10 She says, Sir Hugh, if you be here, As I suppose you be, If ever the dead or quick arose, Arise and spake to me. 155F.11 ‘Yes, mother dear, I am here, I know I have staid very long; But a little penknife was stuck in my heart, Till the stream ran down full strong. 155F.12 ‘And mother dear, when you go home, Tell my playfellows all That I lost my life by leaving them, When playing that game of ball. 155F.13 ‘And ere another day is gone, My winding-sheet prepare, And bury me in the green churchyard, Where the flowers are bloomin fair. 155F.14 ‘Lay my Bible at my head, My Testament at my feet; the earth and worms shall be my bed, Till Christ and I shall meet.’
155G. Baltimore. IT rains, it rains in old Scotland, And down the rain does fa, And all the boys in our town Are out a playing at ba. 155G.2 ‘You toss your balls too high, my boys, You toss your balls too low; You’ll toss them into the Jew’s garden, Wherein you darst not go.’ 155G.3 Then out came one of the Jew’s daughters, All dressed in red and green: ‘Come in, come in, my pretty little boy, And get your ball again.’ 155G.4 ‘I winna come in, and I canna come in, Without my playmates all, And without the will of my mother dear, Which would cause my heart’s blood to fall.’ 155G.5 She shewed him an apple as green as grass, She shewed him a gay gold ring, She shewed him a cherry as red as blood, Which enticed the little boy in. 155G.6 She took him by the lily-white hand, And led him into the hall, And laid him on a dresser-board, And that was the worst of all. 155G.7 She laid the Bible at his head, The Prayer-Book at his feet, And with a penknife small She stuck him like a sheep. 155G.8 Six pretty maids took him by the head, And six took him by the feet, And threw him into a deep draw-well, That was eighteen fathoms deep. * * * * * 155G.9 ‘The lead is wondrous heavy, mother, The well is wondrous deep, A keen pen-knife sticks in my heart, And nae word more can I speak.’
155H.1 IT rains, it rains in fair Scotland, It rains both great and small . . . . . . . . 155H.2 He tossed the ball so high, so low, He tossed the ball so low, He tossed it over the Jew’s garden-wall, Where no none dared to go. 155H.3 Out came one of the Jew’s daughters, All dressed in apple-green; Said she, My dear little boy, come in, And pick up your ball again. 155H.4 ‘I dare not come, I will not come, I dare not come at all; For if I should, I know you would Cause my blood to fall.’ 155H.5 She took him by the lily-white hand, And led him thro the kitchen; And there he saw his own dear maid A roasting of a chicken. 155H.6 She put him in a little chair, And pinned him with a pin, And then she called for a wash-basin, To spill his life blood in. 155H.7 ‘O put the Bible at my head, And the Testament at my feet, And when my mother calls for me, You may tell her I’m gone to sleep.’
155I.1 the recitation of an aged lady. IT rains, it rains in merry Scotland, It rains both great and small, And all the children in merry Scotland Are playing at the ball. 155I.2 They toss the ball so high, so high, They toss the ball so low, They toss the ball in the Jew’s garden, Where the Jews are sitting a row. 155I.3 Then up came one of the Jew’s daughters, Cloathed all in green: ‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty Sir Hugh, And fetch thy ball again.’ 155I.4 ‘I durst not come, I durst not go, Without my play-fellowes all; For if my mother should chance to know, She’d cause my blood to fall.’ * * * * * 155I.5 She laid him upon the dresser-board, And stuck him like a sheep; She laid the Bible at his head, The Testament at his feet, The Catechise-Book in his own heart’s blood, With a penknife stuck so deep. * * * * *
155J.1 IT rains, it rains in merry Scotland, Both little, great and small, And all the schoolfellows in merry Scotland Must needs go play at ball. 155J.2 They tossd the ball so high, so high, With that it came down so low; They tossd it over the old Jew’s gates, And broke the old Jew’s window. 155J.3 The old Jew’s daughter she came out, Was clothed all in green: ‘Come hither, come hither, you young Sir Hugh, And fetch your ball again.’ 155J.4 ‘I dare not come, nor I will not come, Without my schoolfellows come all; For I shall be beaten when I go home For losing of my ball.’ 155J.5 She ’ticed him with an apple so red, And likewise with a fig; She threw him over the dresser-board, And sticked him like a pig. 155J.6 The first came out the thickest of blood, The second came out so thin, The third came out the child’s heart-blood, Where all his life lay in. 155J.7 ‘O spare my life! O spare my life! O spare my life!’ said he; ‘If ever I live to be a young man, I’ll do as good chare for thee.’ 155J.8 ‘I’ll do as good chare for thy true love As ever I did for the king; I will scour a basin as bright as silver To let your heart-blood run in.’ 155J.9 When eleven o’clock was past and gone, And all the school-fellows came home, Every mother had her own child But young Sir Hugh’s mother had none. 155J.10 She went up Lincoln and down Lincoln, And all about Lincoln street, With her small wand in her right hand, Thinking of her child to meet. 155J.11 She went till she came to the old Jew’s gate, She knocked with the ring; Who should be so ready as the old Jew herself To rise and let her in! 155J.12 ‘What news, fair maid? what news, fair maid? What news have you brought to me? . . . . . . . . . 155J.13 ‘Have you seen any of my child today, Or any of the rest of my kin?’ ‘No, I’ve seen none of your child today, Nor none of the rest of your kin.’
155K.1 IT hails, it rains, in Merry-Cock land, It hails, it rains, both great and small, And all the little children in Merry-Cock land They have need to play at ball. 155K.2 They tossd the ball so high, They tossd the ball so low, Amongst all the Jews’ cattle, And amongst the Jews below. 155K.3 Out came one of the Jew’s daughters, Dressed all in green; ‘Come, my sweet Saluter, And fetch the ball again.’ 155K.4 ‘I durst not come, I must not come, Unless all my little playfellows come along; For if my mother sees me at the gate, She’ll cause my blood to fall. 155K.5 ‘She showd me an apple as green as grass, She showd me a gay gold ring; She showd me a cherry as red as blood, And so she entic’d me in 155K.6 ‘She took me in the parlor, She took me in the kitchen, And there I saw my own dear nurse, A picking of a chicken. 155K.7 ‘She laid me down to sleep, With a Bible at my head and a Testament at my feet; And if my playfellows come to quere for me, Tell them I am asleep.’
155L.1 IT rains, it hails in merry Lincoln, It rains both great and small, And all the boys and girls today Do play at pat the ball. 155L.2 They patted the ball so high, so high, They patted the ball so low, They patted it into the Jew’s garden, Where all the Jews do go. 155L.3 Then out it spake the Jew’s daughter, As she leant over the wall; ‘Come hither, come hither, my pretty playfellow, And I’ll give you your ball.’ 155L.4 She tempted him [in] with apple so red, But that wouldnt tempt him in; She tempted him in with sugar so sweet, And so she got him in. 155L.5 Then she put forth her lilly-white hand, And led him through the hall: ‘This way, this way, my pretty play-fellow, And you shall have your ball.’ 155L.6 She led him on through one chamber, And so she did through nine, Until she came to her own chamber, Where she was wont to dine, And she laid him on a dressing-board, And sticket him like a swine. 155L.7 Then out it came the thick, thick blood, And out it came the thin, And out it came the bonnie heart’s blood, There was no more within.
155M.1 DOWN in merry, merry Scotland It rained both hard and small; Two little boys went out one day, All for to play with a ball. 155M.2 They tossed it up so very, very high, They tossed it down so low; They tossed it into the Jew’s garden, Where the flowers all do blow. 155M.3 Out came one of the Jew’s daughters, Dress d in green all: ‘If you come here, my fair pretty lad, You shall have your ball.’ 155M.4 She showed him an apple as green as grass; The next thing was a fig; The next thing a cherry as red as blood, And that would ’tice him in. 155M.5 set him on a golden chair, And gave him sugar sweet; Laid him on some golden chest of drawers, Stabbed him like a sheep. 155M.6 ‘Seven foot Bible At my head and my feet; If my mother pass by me, Pray tell her I’m asleep.’
155N.1 IT was on a May, on a midsummer’s day, When it rained, it did rain small; And little Harry Hughes and his playfellows all Went out to play the ball. 155N.2 He knocked it up, and he knocked it down, He knocked it oer and oer; The very first kick little Harry gave the ball, He broke the duke’s windows all. 155N.3 She came down, the youngest duke’s daughter, She was dressed in green: ‘Come back, come back, my pretty little boy, And play the ball again.’ 155N.4 ‘I wont come back, and I daren’t come back, Without my playfellows all; And if my mother she should come in, She’d make it the bloody ball.’ 155N.5 She took an apple out of her pocket, And rolled it along the plain; Little Harry Hughes picked up the apple, And sorely rued the day. 155N.6 She takes him by the lily-white hand, And leads him from hall to hall, Until she came to a little dark room, That no one could hear him call. 155N.7 She sat herself on a golden chair, Him on another close by, And there’s where she pulled out her little penknife, That was both sharp and fine. 155N.8 Little Harry Hughes had to pray for his soul, For his days were at an end; She stuck her penknife in little Harry’s heart, And first the blood came very thick, and then came very thin. 155N.9 She rolled him in a quire of tin, That was in so many a fold; She rolled him from that to a little draw-well, That was fifty fathoms deep. 155N.10 ‘Lie there, lie there, little Harry,’ she cried, ‘And God forbid you to swim, If you be a disgrace to me, Or to any of my friends.’ 155N.11 The day passed by, and the night came on, And every scholar was home, And every mother had her own child, But poor Harry’s mother had none. 155N.12 She walked up and down the street, With a little sally rod in her hand, And God directed her to the little draw-well, That was fifty fathoms deep. 155N.13 ‘If you be there, little Harry,’ she said, ‘And God forbid you to be, Speak one word to your own dear mother, That is looking all over for thee.’ 155N.14 ‘This I am, dear mother,’ he cried, ‘And lying in great pain, With a little penknife lying close to my heart, And the duke’s daughter has me slain. 155N.15 ‘Give my blessing to my schoolfellows all, And tell them to be at the church, And make my grave both large and deep, And my coffin of hazel and green birch. 155N.16 ‘Put my Bible at my head, My busker (?) at my feet, My little prayer-book at my right side, And sound will be my sleep.’
155O.1 IT rains, it rains, in merry Scotland, It rains both great and small, And all the children in merry Scotland Must needs play at ball. 155O.2 They toss the ball so high, And they toss the ball so low; They toss it into the Jew’s garden, Where the Jews sate all of a row. 155O.3 . . . . A-dress d all in green: ‘Come in, come in, my pretty lad, And you shall have your ball again.’ 155O.4 ‘They set me in a chair of state, And gave me sugar sweet; They laid me on a dresser-board, And stuck me like a sheep. 155O.5 ‘Oh lay a Bible at my head, And a Prayer-Book at my feet! In the well that they did throw me in, Full five-and-fifty feet deep.’
155P.1 HE tossed the ball so high, so high, He tossed the ball so low, He tossed the ball in the Jew’s garden, And the Jews were all below. 155P.2 Oh then out came the Jew’s daughter, She was dressed all in green: ‘Come hither, come hither, my sweet pretty fellow, And fetch your ball again.’
155Q.1 ARR’rr the bairns o Lincolnshire Were learning at the school, And every Saturday at een They learnt their lessons weel. 155Q.2 The Jew’s dochter sat in her bower-door, Sewing at her seam; She spied a’ the bonnie bairns, As they cam out and hame.
155R.1 IT was in the middle o the midsimmer tyme, When the scule weans playd at the ba, ba, Out and cam the Jew’s tochter, And on little Sir Hew did ca, ca, And on little Sir Hew did ca.
155[S].1 It rained so high, it rained so low, . . . . . . . In the Jew’s garden all below. 155[S.2] Out came a Jew, All cloth d in green, Saying, Come hither, come hither, my sweet little boy, And fetch your ball again. 155[S.3] ‘I won’t come hither, I shan’t come hither, Without my school-fellows all; My mother would beat me, my father would kill me, And cause my blood to pour. 155[S.4] ‘He showed me an apple as green as grass, He showed me a gay gold ring, He showed me a cherry as red as blood, And that enticed me in. 155[S.5] ‘He enticed me into the parlour, He enticed me into the kitchen, And there I saw my own dear sister, A picking of a chicken. 155[S.6] ‘He set me in a golden chair And gave me sugar sweet; He laid me on a dresser-board, And stabbed me like a sheep. 155[S.7] ‘With a Bible at my head, A Testament at my feet, A prayer-book at the side of me, And a penknife in so deep. 155[S.8] ‘If my mother should enquire for me, Tell her I’m asleep; Tell her I’m at heaven’s gate, Where her and I shall meet.’
155[T].1 Easter Day was a holiday, Of all days in the year, And all the little schoolfellows went out to play, Bat Sir William was not there. 155[T.2] Mammma went to the Jew’s wife’s house, And knocked at the ring, Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there, Oh, let your mother in! 155[T.3] The Jew’s wife opened the door and said, He is not here to-day; He is with the little schoolfellows out on the green, Playing some pretty play. 155[T.4] Mamma went to the Boyne water, That is so wide and deep, Saying, Little Sir William, if you are there, Oh, pity your mother’s weep! 155[T.5] ‘How can I pity your weep, mother, And I so long in pain? For the little penknife sticks close in my heart, And the Jew’s wife has me slain. 155[T.6] ‘Go home, go home, my mother dear, And prepare my winding sheet, For tomorrow morning before eight o’clock You with my body shall meet. 155[T.7] ‘And lay my Prayer-Book at my head, And my grammar at my feet, That all the little schoolfellows as they pass by May read them for my sake.’
155[U].1 You toss your ball so high, You toss your ball so low, You toss your ball into the Jew’s garden, Where the pretty flowers grow. 155[U.2] Out came one of the Jew’s daughters, Dressed all in green: ‘Come hither, pretty little dear, And fetch your ball again.’ 155[U.3] She showed him a rosy-cheeked apple, She showed him a gay gold ring, She showed him a cherry as red as blood, And that enticed him in. 155[U.4] She set him in a golden chair, She gave him kisses sweet, She threw him down a darksome well, More than fifty feet deep.