Fair Lucy was sitting in her father's hall
A-weeping all alone
When who should come by but her own sister dear—
"What makes fair Lucy mourn?
What makes fair Lucy mourn?"
"I've reason enough to weep," she said
"I've reason enough to mourn
For there is a baby between my two sides
I wish it should never be born
I wish it should never be born."
"O'er field, o'er field, dear sister," she cried
"Oe'r field I will have to roam
For this little baby between my two sides
It is our brother's own
It is our brother's own."
Now her brother was sitting in the very next room
And he heard what she did say
And he has gone to fair Lucy's bower
In the evening of the day
In the evening of the day
He's taken her by the lily-white hand
And led her to a wood
And what he did do there, I never can declare
But he shed poor Lucy's blood
He shed poor Lucy's blood
"Now, what's that blood upon your shirt?
Son John, come tell to me."
"Oh, that is the blood of my greyhound
He would not run for me
He would not run for me."
"Your greyhound's blood was ne'er so red
Son John, come tell to me
Oh, that's your sister Lucy's blood
As I can plainly see
As I can plainly see."
"And what will you do when your father comes to know?
Son John, come tell to me."
"Oh, I will take his best riding horse
And ride as far as I can see
And ride as far as I can see."
"And when will you return home again?
Son John, come tell to me."
"When the sun it sets in yonder shady bower
And that will never, never be
And that will never, never be."