My lover did come ere evensong,
And he give me farewell,
But the wars that took him to the Low Country
He never a war did tell,
But the wars that took him to the Low Country
He never a war did tell.
Oh, he did go to the bloody wars,
His lance and his shield a-glisten,
While his lady did weep in her bowing-room,
And none was there to listen.
While his lady did weep in her bowing-room,
And none was there to listen.
Down fell he there, and there to die,
In the wet of the Low Country,
And no man knows that he lies there
But his horse and his hound and his lady Mary.
And no man knows that he lies there
But his horse and his hound and his lady Mary,
Oh, he may sleep in an open grave,
Where raven fly and flutter,
But I will wake on my pallet of grief,
And many a cry will utter.
But I will wake on my pallet of grief,
And many a cry will utter.
*Note: Ballad lyrics documented by John Jacob Niles (No. 17 A -traditional form of “The Three Ravens” (Francis James Child No. 26},
