THE HOLY WELL.
As it fell out one high holiday,
One high holiday so high
Sweet Jesus asked his mother dear
Whether he might a-go to play.
To play, to play, dear child, she did say,
It's time you have been gone,
And don't let me hear no complaints upon you
At night when you do came home.
O mother, I have been to merry little town
As far as the old high well
And there I did see some as fine a children
As ever tongue can tell.
They said they was lords' and ladies' sons,
The meanest among them all,
And I was nothing but a mild Mary's child
Born in an oxen stall.
If you were nothing but a mild Mary's child
Born down in an oxen stall
You shall be the crown of the kingdom of heaven
And a ruler amongst them all.
Sweet Jesus he turned himself,
He neither did smile nor laugh.
The tears a-came trinkling out of Jesus' eyes
Like the waters from the skies.
Sung by Mrs. Isabel Fletcher at Cinderford,
Glos., Sept. 5th 1919.