lirik lagu a. l. lloyd - prince heathen
[verse]
young margaret sat in a tower so high
and she was as pale as a milk white swan
when she saw a shadow on the plain
come betwixt her and the sun
“mother, is that a thundercloud
or a flight of ravens in the air—
or a black army with a silver flag
and a ragged man among them there?”
“daughter, go run in your little yard
and bid adieu to your flowers so g~y
for yonder ride prince heathen’s men
and i fear they’re coming to take you away.”
in there come prince heathen soon
“good day my mother~in~law to you
and where will l find my sweet little bride
with her hands as soft as the morning dew?”
oh, margaret locked her bower door
but his men, they made the hinges spring
and in there come prince heathen then
and handed her a g~y gold ring
oh, back at him the ring she flung
she cried, “of you i have no fear
i’d call you wolf~hound seven times
before i’d call you husband dear.”
he’s taken her in his dark arms
and cast her down on the cold stone floor
and he has sworn he’d make her weep
before he rose her from the floor
and there he set her free again
her maidenhead from her he’s taken:
“ha, bonny maid, will you weep now?”
“you heathen dog, nor yet for you.”
he’s cast her in a cabin of deep
where fifty locks did hang thereto
“ha, bonny maid, will you weep now?”
“you heathenish dog, nor yet for you.”
“go feed her on the salt, salt meat
and bitter vinegar for her brew
“ha, bonny maid, will you weep now?”
“you heathenish dog, nor yet for you.”
prince heathen down from the mountain came
where he’d been hunting with his armoured men
and he has gone to this bonny, bonny, maid
all in the prison where she is laid
“a drink, a drink, prince heathen,” she said
“even if it’s from the muddy well strain.”
“oh, bonny maid, never a drink! will you weep now?”
“you heathenish dog, nor yet for you.”
he’s taken her by her yellow hair
and knotted it to his horse’s tail
and he has dragged her through briar and th~rn
that grow so thick all upon the plain
“ride slower, slower, prince heathen,” she said
“already the blood has filled me shoe.”
“ha, bonny maid, will you weep now?”
“you heathenish dog, nor yet for you.”
he shortened stirrup and on he rode
he’s dragged her there through briar and th~rn
her silken blouse in ribbons flew
her round full skirt in tatters was torn
he shortened stirrups and on he rode
he’s dragged her again through briar and th~rn
her silken blouse in tatters was torn
and there she has her little babe born
“oh how will i wrap me sweet little babe
seeing as i’ve nothing to roll him in?”
“i’ll give to you my horse blanket
and that’ll cover him toe to chin.”
she took the blanket in her hand
and the salt, salt, tears came trickling down
“ha, bonny maid, do you weep now?”
“you heathenish dog, nor yet for you.”
“i’m weeping for my own little son;
your blanket’s rough to roll him in
ay! and alas, the day i rue
that ever i met such rogues as you!”
he says, “go wash my baby in the milk
and wrap my lady in the silk;
when hearts are broken, hands must bow
and well i love my lady now.”
she says, “when violets grow on the window~pane
and roses bloom on the kitchen floor
not till then will i return again
and be your wife forevermore.”
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