Late last night when the squire came home
Enquiring for his lady
Some denied and some replied
She's gone with the Black Jack Davy

 

Go saddle to me the bonny brown steed
For the grey was never so speedy
I'll ride all day and I'll ride all night
Till I catch that Black Jack Davy

 

He rode up hills and he rode down dales
Over many a wild high mountain
And they did say that saw him go
Black Jack Davy he is hunting

 

He rode east and he rode west
All in the morning early
Until he spied his lady fair
Cold and wet and weary

 

Why did you leave your house and land?
Why did you leave your baby?
Why did you leave your own wedded lord
To go with the Black Jack Davy?

 

What care I for your goose feather bed
With the sheets turned down so bravely
Well I may sleep on the cold hard ground
Along with the Black Jack Davy?

 

Then I'll kick off my high healed shoes
Made of the Spanish leather
And I'll put on my lowland brogues
And skip it o'er the heather

 

 

Come all brother tradesmen that travel along
O pray come and tell me where the trade is all gone
Long time have I travelled and I cannot find none

And sing O the hard times of Old England
In Old England very hard times

 

Provisions you buy at the shop it is true
But if you've no money there's none there for you
So what's a poor man and his family to do

 

And sing O the hard times of Old England
In Old England very hard times

 

You must go to the shop and you'll ask for a job
They'll answer you there with a shake and a nod
Well that's enough to make a man turn out and rob

 

And sing O the hard times of Old England
In Old England very hard times

 

You will see the poor tradesmen a walking the street
From morning 'till night for employment to seek
And scarce have they got any shoes to their feet

 

And sing O the hard times of Old England
In Old England very hard times

 

Our soldiers and sailors have just come from war
Been fighting for Queen and country this year
Come home to be starved better stayed where they were

 

And sing O the hard times of Old England
In Old England very hard times

 

And now to conclude and to finish my song
Let us hope that these hard times they will not last long
I hope soon to have occasion to alter my song

And sing O the good times of Old England
In Old England jolly good times
O the good times of Old England
In Old England jolly good times
O the good times of Old England
In Old England jolly good times
O the good times of Old England
In Old England jolly good times
O the good times of Old England
In Old England jolly good times

 

 

Come fill up your glasses and let us be merry,
For to rob bags of plunder it is our intent.

As we roam through the valleys
Where the lilies and the roses
And the beauty of Kashmir lay drooping his head
Then away, then away, then away-ay-ay-ay
To the caves in yonder mountains
Where the robbers retreat

 

Hush, hush in the distance there's footsteps approaching
Stand, stand and deliver it is our watch cry.

 

As we roam through the valleys
Where the lilies and the roses
And the beauty of Kashmir lay drooping his head
Then away, then away, then away-ay-ay-ay
To the caves in yonder mountains
Where the robbers retreat

 

Come fill up your glasses and let us be merry,
For to rob bags of plunder it is our intent.

 

As we roam through the valleys
Where the lilies and the roses
And the beauty of Kashmir lay drooping his head
Then away, then away, then away-ay-ay-ay
To the caves in yonder mountains
Where the robbers retreat

 

 

There lived a wife in Ushers Well
A wealthy wife was she
She had three stout and stalwart sons
And sent them o'er the sea
They had not been from Ushers Well
A week but barely one
When word came to this carlin wife
That her three sons were gone

 

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

 

It fell about the Martinmas
The nights were long and dark
Three sons came home to Ushers Well
Their hats were made of bark
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 merry merry maidens
Bring water from the well
For all my house shall feed this night
Since my three sons are well

My three sons are well

 

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
For the cock does crow and the day doth show
And the channerin worm doth chide
And we must go from Ushers Well
To the gates of Paradise

 

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