| Lady Margaret she sits in her bower sewing
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| Ma ba and the lilly ba
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| When she saw the knight with his horn a-blowing
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| On the very first morning of May
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| «Oh I wish that I had that horn I hear blowing»
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| And it’s ma ba and the lilly ba
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| «And that young knight to sleep here on my breast»
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| On the very first morning of May
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| Well the lady she had these words scarce spoke
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| And it’s ma ba and the lilly ba
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| When in at her window the knight come a-jumping
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| On the very first morning of May
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| «Oh strange it is, oh strange young woman»
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| And it’s ma ba and the lilly ba
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| «I can scarce blow my horn since I hear you a-calling
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| On the very first morning of May»
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| «Go fetch you gold from your father’s table
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| Deliver it unto me
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| And the two fastest horses in your father’s stable
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| Where there stand thirty and three»
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| So he’s mounted him on the black, black horse
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| And she’s rode on the dappled grey
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| And they rode till they come to the broad sea shore
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| Just three hours before it was day
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| «Lie down, lie down from your horse,» he says
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| «And deliver it unto me
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| For it’s six pretty maids I have drownèd here
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| And the seventh one you shall be»
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| «Take off, take off your clothes,» he says
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| «And deliver them unto me
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| For they are too fine and costly robes
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| For to rot in the salt, salt sea»
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| «Lie down, lie down from your horse,» she says
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| «And turn your back on me
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| For it’s not fitting that any gentle man
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| A naked lady should see»
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| So he’s mounted him down off his horse so high
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| And he’s turned his back on she
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| And she catched him around the middle so small
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| And tumbled him all down in the sea
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| Sometimes he sank, sometimes he swam
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| And it’s ma ba and the lilly ba
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| «Oh help, oh help, oh my pretty mistress
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| Or drownèd I shall be»
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| «Lie there, lie there oh you false young man
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| Lie there instead of me
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| For it’s six pretty maids you have drownèd here
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| And the seventh one has drownèd thee»
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| So she’s mounted her on the black, black horse
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| And she’s led the dappled grey
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| And she rode til she come to her father’s house
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| An hour before it was day
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| And a parrot sitting up on her window side
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| And it’s mah bah and the lilly bah
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| «Oh where have you been, oh my pretty mistress
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| So long before it is day?»
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| «Don't you prittle, don’t you prattle, oh my pretty polly
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| Don’t you tell the tales on me
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| And your cage shall be made of the best glitt’ring gold
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| Your perch of the best ivory»
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| But her father sitting up at his window-side
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| On a-hearing the parrot did say
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| «Oh, what is the matter, oh my pretty polly
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| That you cry so long before the day?»
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| «Oh there come a cat to my window side»
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| And it’s ma ba and the lilly ba
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| «And I was a-calling my pretty mistress»
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| Just to frighten that p****-cat away… |