LADY ISOBEL AND THE ELF KNIGHT



It's of a false knight from the North

Who came a-courting me

He promised he'd take me unto the North land

And there his bride would be



Go fetch me some of your father's gold

And some of your mother's fee

And two of the finest horses they have in the stable

For they have ten and thirty and three



So she fetched some of her father's gold

And some of her mother's fee

And two of the finest horses they had in the stable

For they had ten and thirty and three



Then she got up on the noble brown

And he on the dappled gray

And they rode till they came to a broad waterside

Two long hours before it was day



Lie down, lie down, my Pretty Polly

Lie down, lie down, said he

For it's six king's daughters I have drowned here

And it's you the seventh will be



Now strip yourself, my Pretty Polly

Now strip yourself, said he

For your clothing's too rich and ever-costly

For to rot in the salt of the sea



Well turn your back to the leaves on the tree

And face the salt water sea

For it's not very right such a false-hearted youth

A naked woman should see



So he turned his back to the leaves on the tree

And faced the salt-water sea

And with all the strength pretty Polly she had

She pushed him into the sea



Oh help me, oh help me, my pretty Polly

Oh help me, oh help me, cried he

And I shall become your waiting man

I shall wait on you night and day



Oh no, oh no, you false-hearted youth

Oh no, that never can be

If it's six king's daughters you've drowned here

You can rule o'er your company



Then she got up on the noble brown

And led the dappled gray

And she rode till she came to her father's hall

Two long hours before it was day



Then up bespoke her poll parrot

All from its cage so gay

Why do you travel, my pretty Polly

So long before it is day



Then up bespoke her old father

All from his room so grey

Why do you chatter, my poll parrot

So long before it is day



The cat was up and about my cage

And I could not get away

So I called unto Miss Pretty Polly

For to drive the cat away



Well turned, well turned, my poll parrot

Well turned, well turned, cried she

For your cage I will make of the finest gold

And your door, fine ivory



____________

Sung by Joe Hickerson on "Drive Dull Care Away, II". Hickerson

got it from Carl Sandburg, who got it from Robert Gordon, who get

it from Mrs. O. Mobley.

Child #4

@ballad @murder @animal

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play.exe ELFKNGHT

SF

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