( 4 )
Don’t you remember, Lord Gregory,
one night in my father’s hall,
Where you stole my maidenhead,
which was the worst of all.
Begone you base creature,
begone from out of the hall,
Or else in the deep seas
you and your babe shall fall.
Then who will shoe my bonny feet,
and who will close my hands,
And who will lace my waist so small,
into a landen span;
And who will comb my yellow locks,
with a brown berry comb,
And who’s to be father of my child,
if Gregory is none.
Let your brother shoe your bonny feet,
let your sister close your hands.
Let your mother lace your waist so small,
into a landen span ;
Let your father comb your yellow locks,
with a brown berry comb,
And let God be Father of your child,
for Lord Gregory is none.
I dream’d a dream dear mother,
I could wish to have it read,
I saw the Lass of Ocram
a floating on the flood.
