Francis James Child

“ He ran away to the deep draw-well,
And fell down on his knee.
Says, Bonnie Sir Hugh, and pretty Sir Hugh,
I pray you speak to me!
If you speak to any body in this world,
I pray you speak to me.
When bells were rung, and mass was sung,
And every body went hame,
Then every lady had her son,
But Lady Helen had nane.
She rolled her mantle her about,
And sore, sore did she weep;
She ran away to the Jew's castle,
When all were fast asleep.
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. ”

“ She stuck her penknife in little Harry's heart,
And first the blood came very thick, and then came very thin.
She rolled him in a quire of tin,
That was in so many a fold;
She rolled him from that to a little draw-well,
That was fifty fathoms deep.
'Lie there, lie there, little Harry,' she cried,
'And God forbid you to swim,
If you be a disgrace to me,
Or to any of my friends.'
The day passed by, and the night came on,
And every scholar was home,
And every mother had her own child,
But poor Harry's mother had none. ”

“ She put a penknife in his heart,
And dressed him like a swine.
Then out and cam the thick, thick blude,
Then out and cam the thin;
Then out and cam the bonny heart's blude,
Where a' the life lay in.
She rowd him in a cake of lead,
Bad him lie still and sleep;
She cast him in the Jew's draw-well,
Was fifty fadom deep. ”