From the Penguin Book Of English Folk Songs, Ed Pellow's rendition of the tune of The Broomfield Hill (Child #43) can be found here.
THE BROOMFIELD HILL
Sung by Mrs Powell, weobly, Herefordshire (E.M.L & R.V.W. 1910)
'A wager, a wager with you, my pretty maid,
Here's five hundred pound to your ten
That a maid you shall go to yon merry green broom,
But a maid you shall no more return.'
'A wager, a wager with you, kind sir,
With your hundred pounds to my ten,
That a maid I will go to yon merry green broom,
And a maid I will boldly return.'
Now when that she came to this merry green broom,
Found her true love was fast in a sleep,
With a fine finished rose, and a new suit of clothes,
And a bunch of green broom at his feet.
Then three times she went from the crown of his head,
And three times from the sole of his feet,
And three times she kissed his red rosy cheeks
As he lay fast in a sleep.
Then she took a gold ring from off her hand,
And put that on his right thumb,
And that was to let her true love to know
That she had been there and was gone.
As soon as he had awoke from his sleep,
Found his true love had been there and gone,
It was then he remembered upon the cost,
When he thought of the wager he'd lost.
Three times he called for his horse and his man,
The horse he'd once bought so dear,
Saying: 'Why didn't you wake me out of my sleep,
When my lady, my true love, was here?'
'Three times did I call to you, master,
And three times did I blow with my horn,
But out of your sleep I could not awake
Till your lady, your true love, was gone.'
'Had I been awake when my true love was here,
Of her I would had my will;
If not, the pretty birds in this merry green broom
With her blood they should all had their fill.'
The DT has different versions here, here and here.
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