| 1 |
There was an old man and sons he had three;
Wind well, Lion, good hunter
A friar he being one of the three,
With pleasure he ranged the north country.
For he was a jovial hunter |
| 2 |
As he went to the woods some pastime to see,
Wind well, Lion, good hunter
He spied a fair lady under a tree,
Sighing and moaning mournfully.
He was a jovial hunter |
| 3 |
'What are you doing, my fair lady?'
Wind well, Lion, good hunter
'I'm fightened the wild boar he will kill me;
He has worried my lord and wounded thirty.'
As thou art a jovial hunter |
| 4 |
Then the friar he put his horn to his mouth,
Wind well, Lion, good hunter
And he blew a blast, east, west, north and south,
And the wild boar from his den he came forth.
Unto the jovial hunter
* * * * * |
