And she ran into the Jew’s house
When they were all asleep.
‘The lead is wondrous heavy, mither,
The well is wondrous deep;
A keen penknife sticks in my heart,
’Tis hard for me to speak.’
‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,
Fetch me my winding-sheet;
And at the back of merry Lincoln,
’Tis there we twa shall meet.’