Gathering Rushes In the Month of May
It's of three young maidens a-rushing they went
And a-gathering of rushes it was their intent
But before one's come home she's born a little son
And she's rolled it underneath her apron
So it's home came young Sally with her eyes all full of tears
"What is it that ails you, my little daughter dear?
And what is it that ails my pretty little Sal?
And what have you got underneath your apron?"
Oh then, "Father, oh father, oh father dear," said she
"It is but my new gown that's too long for me
And I was afraid it would draggle in the dew
So I rolled it underneath my apron"
But it's in the first part of the night, when all were fast asleep
The pretty little baby began for to weep
Said her father, "What's that a-crying out so shrill
In the room all among the pretty maidens?"
Well then, "Father, oh father, oh father dear," said she
"It is but a little baby someone gave to me
Let it lie, let it lie this night along of me
And I tell to you its daddy in the morning"
"Well then, was it by a black man got, or was it by a brown
Or was it by a ploughing lad a-ploughing up and down
For if I had a sword I would run the villain through
And leave him to die in the morning"
And a-gathering of rushes it was their intent
But before one's come home she's born a little son
And she's rolled it underneath her apron
So it's home came young Sally with her eyes all full of tears
"What is it that ails you, my little daughter dear?
And what is it that ails my pretty little Sal?
And what have you got underneath your apron?"
Oh then, "Father, oh father, oh father dear," said she
"It is but my new gown that's too long for me
And I was afraid it would draggle in the dew
So I rolled it underneath my apron"
But it's in the first part of the night, when all were fast asleep
The pretty little baby began for to weep
Said her father, "What's that a-crying out so shrill
In the room all among the pretty maidens?"
Well then, "Father, oh father, oh father dear," said she
"It is but a little baby someone gave to me
Let it lie, let it lie this night along of me
And I tell to you its daddy in the morning"
"Well then, was it by a black man got, or was it by a brown
Or was it by a ploughing lad a-ploughing up and down
For if I had a sword I would run the villain through
And leave him to die in the morning"
Credits
Writer(s): Shirley Collins, Dolly Collins, Trad Pd
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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