You owe me ten shillings,
Say the bells of St. Helen's.
When will you pay me?
Say the bells at Old Bailey.
When I grow rich,
Say the bells at Shoreditch.
Pray when will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney.
I'm sure I don't know,
Says the great bell at Bow.
Here comes a candle to light you to bed,
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head.
III. GREEN GRAVEL
Green gravel, green gravel,
The grass is so green,
The fairest young maiden
That ever was seen.
'O Mary! O Mary!
Your true love is dead,
He sends you this letter
To turn round your head.'
'O mother, O mother!
Do you think this is true?'
