Child Owlet

Lyrics

Lady Erskine sits into her bower Sewing a silken seam A bonny shirt for Child Owlet As he goes out and in His face was fair, long was his hair She's called him to come near "Oh, you must cuckold Lord Ronald For all his lands and gear" "Oh, lady, hold your tongue, for shame For such should ne'er be done How can I cuckold Lord Ronald And me his sister's son?" Then she's ta'en out a small penknife That lay beside her head She's pricked herself below her breast Which made her body bleed Lord Ronald's come into hеr bower Where shе did make her moan "Oh, what is all this blood", he said "That shines on your breastbone?" "Young Child Owlet, your sister's son Is new gone from my bower Had I not been a good woman I'd have been Child Owlet's whore" Then he has taken Child Owlet Thrown him in prison strong And all his men, a council held To judge Child Owlet's wrong Some said, Child Owlet, he should hang Some said that he should burn Some said they would he, Child Owlet Between wild horses torn "Ten horses in my stable stand Can run right speedily It's you must to my stable go And take out four for me" They tied a horse unto each foot And one unto each hand They've sent them out o'er Elkin Moor As fast as they could run There was no stone on Elkin Moor No broom nor bonny whin But's dripping with Child Owlet's blood And pieces of his skin There was no grass on Elkin Moor No broom nor bonny rush But's dripping with Child Owlet's blood And pieces of his flesh