14
She neard Our Lady’s deep draw-well,
Was fifty fathom deep:
‘Whareer ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh,
I pray you to me speak.’
15
‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,
Prepare my winding sheet,
And at the back o merry Lincoln
The morn I will you meet.’
14
She neard Our Lady’s deep draw-well,
Was fifty fathom deep:
‘Whareer ye be, my sweet Sir Hugh,
I pray you to me speak.’
15
‘Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear,
Prepare my winding sheet,
And at the back o merry Lincoln
The morn I will you meet.’