There lived a wife at Usher's Well,
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
And sent them o'er the sea.
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely ane,
When word cam' to the carline wife,
That her three sons were gane.
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely three,
When word cam' to the carline wife,
That her sons she'd never see.
"I wish the wind may never cease,
Nor fashes in the flood,
Till my three sons come hame to me,
In earthly flesh and blood!"
It fell about the Martinmas,
When nights are lang and mirk,
The carline wife's three sons cam' hame,
And their hats were o' the birk.
It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o' Paradise,
That birk grew fair eneugh.
"Blow up the fire, now, maidens mine,
Bring water from the well!
For a' my house shall feast this night,
Sin' my three sons are well."
And she has made to them a bed,
She's made it large and wide;
And she's happed her mantle them about,
Sat down at the bed-side.
Up then crew the red red cock,
And up and crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said,
"'Tis time we were away."
"The cock doth, craw, the day doth daw,
The channerin' worm doth chide;
Gin we be miss'd out o' our place,
A sair pain we maun bide."
"Lie still, lie still a little wee while,
Lie still but if we may;
Gin my mother should miss us when she wakes,
She'll go mad ere it be day."
O it's they've ta'en up their mother's mantle,
And they've hangd it on the pin:
"O lang may ye hing, my mother's mantle,
Ere ye hap us again!
'Fare-ye-weel, my mother dear!
Fareweel to barn and byre!
And fare-ye-weel, the bonny lass,
That kindles my mother's fire."
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