She cries, ‘Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, I pray you speak to me; If you speak to any body in this world, I pray you speak to me.’
‘Lady Helen, if ye want your son, I’ll tell ye where to seek; Lady Helen, if ye want your son, He’s in the well sae deep.’
She ran away to the deep draw-well, And she fell down on her knee; Saying, ‘Bonnie Sir Hugh, O pretty Sir Hugh, I pray ye speak to me, If ye speak to any body in the world, I pray ye speak to me.’
‘Oh! the lead it is wondrous heavy, mother The well it is wondrous deep, The little penknife sticks in my throat, And I downa to ye speak.
‘But lift me out o’ this deep draw-well, And bury me in yon churchyard; Put a Bible at my head,’ he says, ‘And a testament at my feet, And pen and ink at every side, And I’ll lie still and sleep.
‘And go to the back of Maitland town, Bring me my winding-sheet; For it’s at the back of Maitland town That you and I sall meet.’
O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom The broom that makes full sore; A woman’s mercy is very little, But a man’s mercy is more.
Anonymous.