Lyrics

[Verse] Young Margaret sat in a tower so high And she was as pale as a milk white swan When she saw a shadow on the plain Come betwixt her and the sun "Mother, is that a thundercloud Or a flight of ravens in the air— Or a black army with a silver flag And a ragged man among them there?" "Daughter, go run in your little yard And bid adieu to your flowers so gay For yonder ride Prince Heathen's men And I fear they're coming to take you away." In there come Prince Heathen soon "Good day my mother-in-law to you And where will l find my sweet little bride With her hands as soft as the morning dew?" Oh, Margaret locked her bower door But his men, they made the hinges spring And in there come Prince Heathen then And handed her a gay gold ring Oh, back at him the ring she flung She cried, "Of you I have no fear I'd call you wolf-hound seven times Before I'd call you husband dear." He's taken her in his dark arms And cast her down on the cold stone floor And he has sworn he'd make her weep Before he rose her from the floor And there he set her free again Her maidenhead from her he's taken: "Ha, bonny maid, will you weep now?" "You heathen dog, nor yet for you." He's cast her in a cabin of deep Where fifty locks did hang thereto "Ha, bonny maid, will you weep now?" "You heathenish dog, nor yet for you." "Go feed her on the salt, salt meat And bitter vinegar for her brew "Ha, bonny maid, will you weep now?" "You heathenish dog, nor yet for you." Prince Heathen down from the mountain came Where he'd been hunting with his armoured men And he has gone to this bonny, bonny, maid All in the prison where she is laid "A drink, a drink, Prince Heathen," she said "Even if it's from the muddy well strain." "Oh, bonny maid, never a drink! Will you weep now?" "You heathenish dog, nor yet for you." He's taken her by her yellow hair And knotted it to his horse's tail And he has dragged her through briar and thorn That grow so thick all upon the plain "Ride slower, slower, Prince Heathen," she said "Already the blood has filled me shoe." "Ha, bonny maid, will you weep now?" "You heathenish dog, nor yet for you." He shortened stirrup and on he rode He's dragged her there through briar and thorn Her silken blouse in ribbons flew Her round full skirt in tatters was torn He shortened stirrups and on he rode He's dragged her again through briar and thorn Her silken blouse in tatters was torn And there she has her little babe born "Oh how will I wrap me sweet little babe Seeing as I've nothing to roll him in?" "I'll give to you my horse blanket And that'll cover him toe to chin." She took the blanket in her hand And the salt, salt, tears came trickling down "Ha, bonny maid, do you weep now?" "You heathenish dog, nor yet for you." "I'm weeping for my own little son; Your blanket's rough to roll him in Ay! And alas, the day I rue That ever I met such rogues as you!" He says, "Go wash my baby in the milk And wrap my lady in the silk; When hearts are broken, hands must bow And well I love my lady now." She says, "When violets grow on the window-pane And roses bloom on the kitchen floor Not till then will I return again And be your wife forevermore."