"O art thou blind, Lord Thomas?" she cried,
"Or canst thou not plainly see My own heart s blood run trickling down, Run trickling down to my knee?" Lord Thomas, he had a sword at his side, And as he walked up the hall, He cut the bride s head from her shoulders, And flung it against the wall! He placed the hilt against the ground, The point against his heart! So never three lovers together did meet, And sooner again did part! They buried Fair Ellen beneath an oak tree, Lord Thomas beneath the church spire, And out of her bosom there grew a red rose, And out of her lover s a briar! They grew and grew, till they reached the church top, They grew till they reached the church spire, And there they entwined, in a true lover s knot, For true lovers all to admire!
THE HANGMAN S TREE
"Hangman, hangman, howd yo hand,
O howd it wide and far!
For theer I see my father cooming
Riding through the air.
"Father, father, ha yo brought me goold? Ha yo paid my fee? Or ha yo coom to see me hung Beneath the hangman s tree?"
