A man there came from the far north lands A maiden he did spy He swore to take her in his hands And she would be his bride "Go fetch for me your father's gold Some of your mother's fee Two of the nags from the stable hold Where there stand thirty-three" She mounted up her milk-white steed And he, a dapple-grey They rode a mile to the stormy sea In the early hours of day "Doff off, doff off, thy silken things Deliver them to me They are too rich and set with rings To rot in salty sea" "Light off, light off and turn this way Reveal yourself to me I have here drowned six pretty maids And you will the seventh be" She said, "Doff off my silken things? First turn your back on me It is not right a ruffian king A naked woman should see Go fetch the sickle, the nettles crop They grow too near the brim And they may tangle my golden locks Or freckle my milk-white skin" And so he turned himself around Surveyed the land so green She caught him square, his neck she crowned And threw him into the stream "Lie there, lie there, and hold the tides Lie down for the love of me You've drowned yourself for six sweet brides I'll not the seventh be" She mounted up her horse so fine And took the mare of grey She rode herself the country mile And stowed them safe away The parrot stood at his high window "What ails? What ails? Young maid Your face is bathed with the afterglow The longest time you stayed" "Oh, hold your tongue, my bird so bold The king will hear of thee Your cage I will make of the beaten gold And hang in the willow tree"
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