It rains, it rains in merry Lincoln,
It rains both great and small,
When all the boys came out to play,
To play and toss the ball.

They play, they toss the ball so high,
They toss the ball so low,
They toss it over the Jews' garden
Where all the fine Jews go.

The first that came out was the Jew's daughter,
Was dressed all in green.
‘Come in, come in, my little Sir Hugh,
To have your ball again.’

‘I cannot come there, I will not come there,
Without my playmates all,
For I know full well from my mother dear
'Twill cause my blood to fall.’

The first she offered him was a fig,
The next a finer thing;
The third was a cherry as red as blood,
Which tolled the young thing in.

She sat him up in a gilty chair,
She gave him sugar sweet;
She laid him out on a dresser board
And stabbed him like a sheep.

One hour and the school was over,
His mother came out to call,
With a little rod under her apron
To beat her son withal.

‘Go home, go home, my heavy mother,
Prepare a winding sheet,
And if my father should ask of me,
You tell I'm fast asleep.

‘My head is heavy, I cannot get up,
The well is cold and deep;
Besides, a penknife sticks in my heart,
So out I cannot creep.’