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FOUR MARY'S Last night there were four Mary's Tonight there'll only be three There was Mary Eaton, an Mary Beaton Mary Carmichel an' me Last night I washed my queens feet An' I put gold braids in her hair An' th only'est thing it's ever gonna bring To me is this death so sore For word is in th kit-chen An' words gone out in the hall That Mary Hamilton goes out with child To the highest Stewert of them all He courted her in th kit-chin He courted her in th hall He promised her th whole wide world But he gave to her nothing at t'all Mary Hamilton walks a weep'in Down by th lonely sea I'll bare' this Stewert child alone An' twill be th death o' me Her wee barn was still born She cast 'im in to th sea Lie there, lie there, your Kings grandson But you'll have no more of me Now, down hath come her old Queen With th gold braids stil in 'er hair O, Mary Hamilton where's your child I heard crying full sore Ther n'er hath been a wee barn Anyone plainly can see T'is but this pain in my poor heart An th weeping you heard it was me Well, put on your dress of red, my dear Or 'ither black or brown For before tomorrows sun shall sink Gonna ride you throuh Edinbrough town She n'ither put on of dress of red Nor yet th black or th brown But arade herself in th puriest white Yet they rode 'er through Edinborough town And it's little did me own Mother think Th't day she first cradled me Th distance lands that I would roam And th death I would have to di-e Last night there were four Marys Tonight there'll only be three There was Mary Eaton, and Mary Beaton Mary Carmichel, no me From the Max Hunter Folk Song Collection Cat. 0583 (MFH 422) As sung by Almeda Riddle, Heber Springs, Arkansas on October 23, 1965 @history @murder @royalty Child #173 filename[ MARYHAM6 TUNE FILE: MARYS4 CLICK TO PLAY MD Feb07 |
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