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HUGH OF LINCOLN
XIII
She near'd Our Lady's deep draw-well, And fell down on her knee :
' Where'er ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh, I pray you speak to me ! '—
XIV
' O the lead is wondrous heavy, mother, The well is wondrous deep ;
The little penknife sticks in my throat, And I downa to ye speak.
xv ' Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear.
Prepare my winding sheet, And at the back o' merry Lincoln
The morn I will you meet.'
XVI
Now Lady Helen is gane hame,
Made him a winding sheet, And at the back o' merry Lincoln
The dead corpse did her meet.
XVII
And a' the bells o' merry Lincoln Without men's hands were rung ;
And a' the books o' merry Lincoln Were read without man's tongue ;
And never was such a burial Sin' Adam's day begun.
downa] cannot, have not the force to. |
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