Classic Poem

A' the boys of merry Linkim
War playing at the ba,
An up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh,
The flower amang them a'.

He keppit the ba than wi his foot,
And catchd it wi his knee,
And even in at the Jew's window
He gart the bonny ba flee.

‘Cast out the ba to me, fair maid,
Cast out the ba to me!’
‘Ah never a bit of it,’ she says,
‘Till ye come up to me.

‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,
Come up and get the ba'!’
‘I winna come up, I mayna come [up],
Without my bonny boys a'.’

‘Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh,
Come up and speak to me!’
‘I mayna come up, I winna come up,
Without my bonny boys three.’

She 's taen her to the Jew's garden,
Where the grass grew lang and green,
She 's pu'd an apple reid and white,
To wyle the bonny boy in.

She 's wyl'd him in thro ae chamber,
She 's wyl'd him in thro twa,
She 's wyl'd him till her ain chamber,
The flower out owr them a'.

She 's laid him on a dressin-board,
Whare she did often dine;
She stack a penknife to his heart,
And dressd him like a swine.

She rowd him in a cake of lead,
Bade him lie still and sleep;
She threw him i the Jew's draw-well,
'T was fifty fathom deep.

Whan bells was rung, and mass was sung,
An a' man bound to bed,
Every lady got hame her son,
But sweet Sir Hugh was dead.