The Jew's Garden
The rains run down,
Through Maryland town,
The river swell and swell,
And all the lads in Maryland town,
Throw pennies to the well.
And their debts grow higher and higher,
And their bets and their theories do grow,
And they dared young Hugh to the Jew's garden,
Where the scared nor the skeptics dare go.
Then down came the Jew's daughter,
All dressed in silk so fine,
Cried she: sir Hugh, oh pretty sir Hugh
What appoints have made your mind?
She offered him ripe apples,
Likewise a gay gold diamond ring,
And a lily with color as red as blood,
She enticed this little boy in.
She took him by the lily-white hand,
And she led him down the hall,
And she took a penknife to where he could not sound,
And let his lifeblood fall.
She wrapped him into his winding sheets,
Woven not of cloth but of lead,
And she held him down the old town well,
Saying sir Hugh must play with the dead.
Oh help me! Help me! Cried little sir Hugh,
And build me a coffin of birch,
And tell my mother I've fallen to sleep,
And bury me in yonder's church.
Sing down, sing down, my little Sir Hugh,
Has Jettson two eyes not? Cried she,
Sing down, sing down, and with your words,
To my kin you are injury.
Sing down, down and with you your words,
You are harmed as much as you've hurt.
Through Maryland town,
The river swell and swell,
And all the lads in Maryland town,
Throw pennies to the well.
And their debts grow higher and higher,
And their bets and their theories do grow,
And they dared young Hugh to the Jew's garden,
Where the scared nor the skeptics dare go.
Then down came the Jew's daughter,
All dressed in silk so fine,
Cried she: sir Hugh, oh pretty sir Hugh
What appoints have made your mind?
She offered him ripe apples,
Likewise a gay gold diamond ring,
And a lily with color as red as blood,
She enticed this little boy in.
She took him by the lily-white hand,
And she led him down the hall,
And she took a penknife to where he could not sound,
And let his lifeblood fall.
She wrapped him into his winding sheets,
Woven not of cloth but of lead,
And she held him down the old town well,
Saying sir Hugh must play with the dead.
Oh help me! Help me! Cried little sir Hugh,
And build me a coffin of birch,
And tell my mother I've fallen to sleep,
And bury me in yonder's church.
Sing down, sing down, my little Sir Hugh,
Has Jettson two eyes not? Cried she,
Sing down, sing down, and with your words,
To my kin you are injury.
Sing down, down and with you your words,
You are harmed as much as you've hurt.
Credits
Writer(s): Samuel Leslie Lee
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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