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Indiana University Publications, Folklore Series
4. She fixed them a table that they might eat,
Spread over with bread and wine; "Come eat, come eat, my three little babes; Come eat and drink of mine."
5. "We cannot eat your bread, mother;
Nor either drink your wine, For along about the break of day With Christ we must all dine."
6. Then she fixed them a bed in the very best room,
Spread over it a clean sheet, And then spread over a golden cloth That they might better sleep.
7. "Take it off, take it off, dear mother," they said;
"Take it off, we say once more; For woe, woe, woe be to this wicked world So long since pride begun."