Folk and Traditional Song Lyrics:

Home Main Menu Folk Song Lyrics A B1 B2 B3 B4 C1 C2 C3 D1 D2 E F G H I J K L1 L2 M N O P Q R S1 S2 S3 S4 T U V W1 W2 XYZ Search

Share page  Visit Us On FB

The Hag

The Hag

If you will be still,
Then tell you I will
Of a fusty old Gill,
That dwells under a Hill:
She is a right Sae,
Well worn with Age,
And a Visage will swage
A stout Man's Courage.

She has a beetle Brow,
Deep Furrows enow,
She's Ey'd like a Sow,
Flat nos'd like a Cow:
She has a Devilish Grin,
Long Hairs on her Chin,
She's nearly a-kin
To the foul fotted Fiend.

Teeth yellow as Box,
Half out with the Pox,
Her Breath sweet as Socks,
Or the Scent of a Fox:
Lips swarthy and Dun,
With a Mouth like a Gun,
And her Twattle does run,
And swift as the Sun.

Hair lousie with Nits,
She stinksn i'th' Arm-pits,
She'll still hauks and spits,
And hems up great Bits:
She has long unpar'd Nails,
Hands cover'd with Scales,
She's still full of Ails,
And to stink never fails.

Her back has a Hill,
You may plant a Wind-mill,
And the Farts of this Gill,
Would the Sails well trill:
I've taken my fill,
Of the fusty old Gill,
Which she took so ill,
That I laid down my Quill.

Download the song in PDF format for printout etc. Download the song in RTF format for editing etc.

E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III