Lady Margaret she sits in her bower sewing,
Baba and a lily-va,
When she saw the knight with his horn a-blowing,
On the very first morning of May.
"Oh would your lord would give to me rest,
And it's baba and a lily-va,
And that young knight lay here on my breast,
On the very first morning of May."
Now the lady she had these words scarce spoken,
And baba and a lily-va,
When in at her window the knight come a-jumping,
On the very first morning of May.
"Oh strange it is, oh strange, young woman,
And baba and a lily-va,
I can scarce blow my horn but I hear you a-calling,
On the very first morning of May."
"Go get you gold from your father's table,
Deliver it all unto me,
And the two fastest horses in your father's stable,
Where there stand thirty and three."
Now she's mounted her up on the black, black horse,
And he's rode on the dapple grey.
And they rode till they come to the broad seaside,
Just three hours before it was day.
"Light down, light down off your horse, " he cries,
"And deliver him up unto me.
For it's six pretty maids I have drowned here,
And the seventh one you shall be."
"Take off, take off all your clothes," he cries,
"And deliver them all unto me.
For they are too fine and costly robes
For to rot in the salt salt sea."
"Light down, light down off your horse," she cries,
"And turn your back unto me.
For it's not fitting that any gentleman
A naked lady should see."
So he's lighted him down off his horse so high,
And he's turned his back unto she,
And she's catched him around his middle so small,
And she's tumbled him all down in the sea.
Sometimes he sank, sometimes he swam,
And it's baba and a lily-va,
"Oh help, oh help, o you pretty fair maid,
Or drownded I shall be."
"Lie there, lie there, o you false young man,
Lie there instead of me,
For it's six pretty maids you have drownded here,
And the seventh one have drownded thee."
So she's mounted her up on the black, black horse,
And she's led the dapple grey,
And she's rode till she come to her father's yard
Just an hour before it was day.
And a parrot sitting up at his window so high,
And baba and a lily-va,
"Oh where have you been my pretty mistress,
So long before it is day."
"Don't you prittle, don't you prattle, o my pretty Polly,
Don't tell no tales on me,
And your cage shall be made of the finest glittering gold,
And your perch of the best ivory."
And her father sitting up at his window so high,
And on hearing the parrot, he did say,
"Oh what is the matter, my pretty Polly,
That you cry so long before the day?"
"Oh there come a cat to my window so high,
And it's baba and a lily-va,
And I was a-calling my pretty mistress,
Just to frighten that pussycat away."