Notes and QUeries, Second Series, IX, 193;
comminicated by A.J., Edinburgh,
as learned by himself and an elder sister from an old washerwoman
of East Dercham, Norfolk, in the early part of this century.
| 1 |
* * * *
'My father was the first good man
Who tied me to a stake;
My mother was the first good woman
Who did the fire make. |
| 2 |
'My brother was the next good man
Who did the fire fetch;
My sister was the next good woman
Who lighted it with a match. |
| 3 |
'They blew the fire, they kindled the fire,
Till it did reach my knee:
"[O mother, mother, quench the fire!
The smoke will smother me."] |
| 4 |
'O had I but my little foot-page,
My errand he would run;
He would run unto gay London,
And bid my lord come home.' |
| 5 |
Then there stood by her sister's child,
Her own dear sister's son:
'O many an errand I've run for thee,
And but this one I'll run.' |
| 6 |
He ran, where the bridge was broken down
He bent his bow and swam;
He swam till he came to the good green turf,
He up on his feet and ran. |
| 7 |
He ran till he came at his uncle's hall;
His uncle sat at his meat:
'Good mete, good mete, good uncle, I pray,
O if you knew what I'd got to say,
How little would you eat!' |
| 8 |
'O is my castle broken down,
Or is my tower won?
Or is my gay lady brought o bed,
Of a daughter or a son?' |
| 9 |
'Your castle is not broken down,
Your tower it is not won;
Your gay lady is not brought to bed,
Of a daughter or a son. |
| 10 |
'But she has sent you a gay gold ring,
With a posy round the rim,
To know, if you have any love for her,
You'll come to her burning.' |
| 11 |
He called down his merry men all,
By one, by two, by three;
He mounted on his milk-white steed,
To go to Margery. |
| 12 |
They blew the fire, they kindled the fire,
Till it did reach her head:
'O mother, mother, quench the fire!
For I am nearly dead.' |
| 13 |
She turned her head on her left shoulder,
Saw her girdle hang on the tree:
'O God bless them that gave me that!
They'll never give more to me.' |
| 14 |
She turned her head on her right shoulder,
Saw her lord come riding home:
'O quench the fire, my dear mother!
For I am nearly gone.' |
| 15 |
He mounted off his milk-white steed,
And into the fire he ran,
Thinking to save his gay ladye,
But he had staid too long. |
