There was a woman and she lived alone
And babies she had three.
She sent them away to the north country
To learn their grammarie.

There lived a lady in merry Scotland,
And she had sons all three,
And she sent them away into merry England,
To learn some English deeds.

They'd not been gone but a very short time,
Scarcely six weeks to the day,
When death, cold death spread through the land
And swept them babes away.

They had not been in merry England
For twelve months and one day,
When the news came back to their own mother dear,
Their bodies were in cold clay.

She prayed to the Lord in Heaven above,
Wearing a starry crown:
“Oh, send to me my three little babes,
Tonight, or in the morning soon.”

“I will not believe in God,” she said,
“Nor Christ in eternity,
Till They send me back my own three sons,
The same as they went from me.”

It was very close to Christmas time;
The nights was long and cold.
And the very next morning at the break of day
Them babes come a-running home.

Old Christmas time was drawing near,
When the nights are dark and long,
This mother's own three sons came home,
Walking by the light of the moon.

She set the table for them to eat,
Upon it spread bread and wine.
“Come eat, come drink, my three little babes;
Come eat, come drink of mine.”

And as soon as they reached to their own mother's gate,
So loud at the bell they ring,
There's none so ready as their own mother dear
To loose these children in.

“Oh, mother, we cannot eat your bread,
Neither can we drink your wine,
For tomorrow morning, at the break of day,
Our Saviour we must join.”

The cloth was spread, the meat put on;
“No meat, Lord, can we take;
It's been so long and so many a day
Since you our dinner did make.”

She made the bed in the back-most room,
Upon it she spread a sheet,
Upon the top a golden spread
For to help them babes asleep.

The bed was made, the sheets put on;
“No rest, Lord, can we take;
It's been so long and so many a day
Since you our bed did make.”

“Rise up, rise up,” said the eldest one,
“Rise up, rise up,” said she,
“For tomorrow morning, at the break of day,
Our Saviour must we see.

Then Christ did call for the roasted cock,
Feathered with His holy hands,
He crowed three times all in the dish,
In the place where he did stand.

He crowed three times all in the dish,
Set at the table head,
“And isn't it a pity,” they all did say,
“The quick should part from the dead.

“Cold clods of clay roll o'er our heads,
Green grass grows on our feet,
And thy sweet tears, my mother dear,
Will wet our winding sheet.”

“So farewell stick, farewell stone,
Farewell to the maidens all,
Farewell to the nurse that gave us suck,”
And down the tears did fall.

There lived a wife in Usher's Well
And a wealthy wife was she;
She'd three fine and stalwart sons
And sent them o'er the sea.

There lived a wife in Usher's Well
A wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons
And sent them o'er the sea.

They'd not been gone a week,
And a week but barely one,
When death sweeping over the land
Took 'em one by one.

They had not been from Usher's Well,
A week but barely one,
When word came to this carlin wife
That her three sons were gone.

And they'd not been gone a week,
A week but barely three,
When word come to that young girl
Her babes she'd never see.

“I wish the wind would never blow
No fish swim in the flood
Till my darling babes are home,
They're home in flesh and blood.”

“I wish the wind may never cease
Nor flashes in the flood
Till my three sons return to me
In earthly flesh and blood.”

And there about the Martinmas,
Nights are long and dark,
Her three kids come to her door
Their hats were made of bark.

It fell about the Martinmas,
The nights were long and dark,
Three sons came home to Usher's Well
Their hats were made of bark

And the tree never grew in any ditch
Nor down by any wall
But at the gates of Paradise
Grew strong grew tall.

That neither grew in forest green
Nor on any wooded rise,
But from the north side of the tree
That grows in Paradise.

“Blow up the fire, my maidens all,
Bring water from the well,
Since my darling babes are home
They've come home safe and well.”

“Blow up the fire, my merry merry maidens,
Bring water from the well
For all my house shall feed this night
Since my three sons are well.”

So she has laid the table
With bread and with wine,
“Come eat and drink, my darling babes,
Eat and drink of mine.”

“We may not eat your bread mother
Nor may we drink your wine,
For cold death is lord of all,
To him we must resign.

“The green grass is at our head
And the clay is at our feet,
And your tears come tumbling down
And wet our winding sheet.”

So she has made the bed for them,
Spread the milk-white sheet.
She's laid it all with cloth of gold
To see if they could sleep.

And up and crew the red cock,
Up and crew the grey,
And the youngest to the eldest says,
“Brother, we must away.”

Then up and crowed the blood red cock
And up and crowed the grey,
The oldest to the youngest said,
“It's time we were away.

And the cock had not crowed once
And clapped his wings for day,
When the eldest to the youngest says
“Brother, we must away.

“For the cock crow the day dawn,
The chunnering worm chide,
And if we're missed out of our place
Then pain we must bide.

“For the cock does crow and the day doth show
And the channerin worm doth chide
And we must go from Usher's Well
To the gates of Paradise.”

“Farewell, farewell, my mother dear,
Farewell to barn and byre,
And farewell the sweet young girl
Kindling my mother's fire.”

“I wish the wind may never cease
Nor flashes in the flood
Till my three sons return to me
In earthly flesh and blood.”

There lived a wife at Usher's Well,
And a wealthy wife was she,
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
And she sent them o'er the sea.

They hadna been a week frae her,
A week but barely ane,
When word cam tae the carline wife
That her three sons were gane.

They hadna been a week frae her,
A week but barely three,
When word came to the carline wife
That her sons she'd never see.

“I wish the wind may never cease,
Nor fashes in the flood,
Till my three sons come hame tae me,
In earthly flesh and blood!” -

It fell about the Martinmas,
When nights are lang and mirk,
The carline wife's three sons cam hame,
And their hats were o' the birk.

It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o' Paradise,
That birk grew fair enough.

“Blow up the fire, my maidens fair,
Bring water frae the well!
For a' my hoose shall feast this nicht,
Since my three sons are well.” -

And she has made tae them a bed,
She's made it large and wide;
And she's ta'en her mantle her about,
Sat down at their bedside.

Up then crew the reid reid cock,
And up then crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said,
“'Tis time we were away.” -

The cock he hadna craw'd but once,
And clapp'd his wings at a',
The youngest to the eldest said,
“Brother, we must awa.

“The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,
The channerin worm doth chide;
Gin we be missed oot o' oor place,
A sair pain we maun bide.

“Fare ye weel, my mother dear!
Fareweel tae barn and byre!
And fare ye weel, thou bonny lass
That kindles my mother's fire.”

There lived an old wife in Coverdale
    Merrily turns the Wheel
There lived an old wife in Coverdale
Children she had three
She sent them away to northern lands,
She sent them away for to learn their grammerye

Sad news came to her at Martinmas
    Merrily turns the wheel
Her children had sickened and died
And buried they were all three
My curse on the moon and the stars she cried
My curse upon God, he that took them away from me

The moon it rose high on Coverdale
    Merrily turns the wheel
The old wife she wept bitter tears
As she lay in her narrow bed
And there in the doorway her children stood
Their hats were of birch and their eyes as grey as lead

She arose to prepare a feast for them
    Merrily turns the wheel
And all the while tears down fell
And so bitterly she did weep
We want none of you meat or your ale mother
But let us return to our graves for to take our sleep

The cock it crows loud in Coverdale
    Merrily turns the wheel
The sun it rose red as blood
And the Moon it fled to the west
The worm it is calling us home mother
And all of your tears they will not let us rest