The Broomfield Hill

The Broomfield Hill - A. L. Lloyd

A wager a wager with you my pretty maid

Here's five hundred pound to your ten

That a maid you shall go to yon merry green broom

But a maid you shall no more return

A wager a wager with you kind sir

With your five hundred pound to my ten

That a maid i will go to yon merry green broom

And a maid i will boldly return

Now when that she came to this merry green broom

Found her true love was fast in a sleep

With a fine finished rose and a new suit of clothes

And a bunch of green broom at his feet

Then three time she went from the crown of his head

And three times from the sole of his feet

And three times she kissed his red rosy cheeks

As he lay fast in a sleep

Then she took a gold ring from off of her hand

And put that on his right thumb

And that was to let her true love to know

That she had been there and was gone

As soon as he awoke from his drowsy drowsy sleep

And found his true love had been there and gone

It was then he remembered upon the cost

When he thought of the wager that he'd lost

Three times he called for his horse and his man

The horse he'd once bought so dear

Saying why didn't you wake me out of my sleep

When my lady my true love was here

Three times did i call to you master me dear

And three times did i blow with my horn

But out of your sleep i couldn't you awake

Till your lady your true love was gone

Oh had i been awake when my true love was here

Of her i would have my will

If not the pretty birds in this merry green broom

With her blood they should have all had their fill