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There was a lady and a lady gay, |
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Of children she had three, |
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She sent them away to the North Countree |
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To learn their grammaree |
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They'd not been gone but a very short time, |
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Scarcely three weeks and a day, |
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When death, cruel death, came hasting along |
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And stole those babes away. |
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"There is a King in Heaven," she cried |
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"A King of third degree |
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Send back, send back my three little pages, |
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This night send them back to me." |
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She made a bed in the uppermost room, |
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On it she put a white sheet, |
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And over the top a golden spread |
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That they much better might sleep. |
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"Take it off, take it off," cried the older one, |
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"Take it off, take it off," cried he, |
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"For what's to become of this wide wicked world |
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Since sin has first begun." |
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She set a table of linen fine, |
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On it she placed bread and wine, |
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"Come eat, come drink of mine." |
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"We want none of your bread, mother, |
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Neither do we want your wine, |
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For yonder stands our Savior deer, |
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To Him we must resign." |
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"Green grass is over our heads, mother, |
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Cold clay is over our feet, |
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And every tear you shed for us, |
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It wets our winding-sheet." |
