Page:English folk-carols.djvu/24



As it fell out on a bright holiday,

Small hail from the sky did fall;

Our Saviour asked His mother dear

If he may go and play at ball.

At ball! at ball! my own dear Son!

It is time that you were gone;

And don't let me hear of any doings

At night when you come home.

So up Lincull and down Lincull

Our sweetest Saviour ran,

And there He met three rich young lords:

Good morning! to you all.

Good morn! good morn! good morn! said they:

Good morning! then said He,

O which of you three rich young men

Will play at ball with me?

We are all lords' and ladies' sons,

Born in our bower and hall;

And Thou art nothing but a poor maid's child,

Born in an ox's stall.

If you're all lords' and ladies' sons,

Born in your bower and hall,

I will make you believe in your latter end;

I'm an angel above you all.

So He made Him a bridge with the beams of the sun,

And o'er the water crossed He.

These rich young lords followed after Him,

And drowned they were all three.

Then up Lincull and down Lincull

These young lords' mothers ran,

Saying: Mary mild, fetch home your child,

For ours He has drowned all.

So Mary mild fetched home her child

And laid Him across her knee;

With a handful of green withy twigs

She gave Him slashes three.

O withy! O withy! O bitter withy!

Thou hast caused Me to smart;

And the withy shall be the very first tree

That shall perish at the heart! Rh