Richardson's Borderer's Table Book, VIII, 410, 1846,
communicated by Mrs. Blackett, Newcastle, as taken down
from the recitation of an old woman of Ovington, Northumberland,
"several years ago;" previously in Fisher's
Drawing Koom Scrap Book, 1835, p. 11.
| 1 |
The lord said to his ladie,
as he mounted his horse,
Beware of Long Lonkin,
that lies in the moss. |
| 2 |
The lord said to his ladie,
as he rode away,
Beware of Long Lonkin,
that lies in the clay. |
| 3 |
'What care I for Lonkin,
or any of his gang?
My doors are all shut,
and my windows penned in.' |
| 4 |
There were six little windows,
and they were all shut,
But one little window,
and that was forgot. |
| 5 |
. . . . .
. . . . .
And at that little window
long Lonkin crept in. |
| 6 |
'Where's the lord of the hall?'
says the Lonkin:
'He's gone up to London,'
says Orange to him. |
| 7 |
'Where's the men of the hall?'
says the Lonkin:
'They're at the field ploughing,'
says Orange to him. |
| 8 |
'Where's the maids of the hall?'
says the Lonkin:
'They're at the well washing,'
says Orange to him. |
| 9 |
'Where's the ladies of the hall?'
says the Lonkin:
'They're up in their chambers,'
says Orange to him. |
| 10 |
'How shall we get them down?'
says the Lonkin:
'Prick the babe in the cradle,'
says Orange to him. |
| 11 |
'Rock well my cradle,
and bee-ba my son;
You shall have a new gown
when the lord he comes home.' |
| 12 |
Still she did prick it,
and bee-ba she cried:
'Come down, dearest mistress,
and still your own child.' |
| 13 |
'Oh still my child, Orange,
still him with a bell:'
'I can't still him, ladie,
till you come down yoursell.'
* * * * * |
| 14 |
'Hold the gold basin,
for your heart's blood to run in,'
. . . . .
. . . . . |
| 15 |
'To hold the gold basin,
it grieves me full sore;
Oh kill me, dear Lonkin,
and let my mother go.' |
