Jellon Graeme

Jellon Graeme sat in the wood, he whistled and he sang

He called for his servant boy who quickly to him ran

Hurry up, hurry up, my pretty little boy, as fast as ever you can

You must run for Rosy Flower before the day is gone

The boy buckled on his yellow belt and through the woods he sang

Ran till he came to the lady's window before the day was gone

Are you awake little Rosy Flower, the blood runs cold as rain

I was asleep, but now I'm awake, who's that that calls my name?

You must go to the Silver Wood, though you never come back again

You must go to the Silver Wood to speak with Jellon Graeme

I will go to the Silver Wood though I never come back again

The man I most desire to see is my love, Jellon Graeme

She had not rid about two long mile, it were not more than three

Till she came to a new dug grave beneath the white oak tree

Out and sprang young Jellon Graeme from out of the woods nearby

Get down, get down, you Rosy Flower, it's here that you will die

She jumped down from off her horse, then down upon her knee

Pity on me, dear Jellon Graeme, I'm not prepared to die

Wait until our babe is born and then you can let me lie

If I should spare your life, he said, until our babe is born

I know your pa and all your kin would hang me in the morn

Pity on me, dear Jellon Graeme, my pa you need not dread

I'll bear my baby in the Silver Wood and go and beg my bread

No pity, no pity for Rosy Flower, on her knees she pray

He stabbed her deep with the silver steel and at his feet she lay

No pity, no pity for Rosy Flower, she was a lying dead

But pity he had for his little young son a smothering in her

blood

He's torn the baby out of the womb, washed him in water and blood

Named him after a robber man, he called him Robin Hood

Then he took him to his house and set him on a nurse's knee

He growed as much in a one year time as other ones do in three

Then he took him to read and write and for to learn how to thrive

He learned as much in the one year time as other ones do in five

But I wonder now, said little Robin, if a woman did me bear

Many a mother do come for the rest, but never one come for me

It fell out in the summertime when they was a hunting game

They stopped to rest in the Silver Wood, him and Jellon Graeme

I wonder now, said little Robin, why my mammy don't come for me?

To keep me hid in the Silver Wood, I calls it a cruelty

But I wonder now, says little Robin, if the truth would ever be

known

Why all this woods is a growing green and under that tree there's

none?

You wonder now, said Jellon Graeme, Why your mammy don't come for

thee

Lo, there's the place I laid her low, right under that white oak

tree

The little boy chose him an arrow was both keen and sharp

Laid his cheek all along the bow and pierced his father's heart

Lie there, lie there, you Jellon Graeme, the grave you will never

see

The place where lies my mammy dear is far too good for thee

I should have torn you out of the womb and thrown you upon a thorn

Let the wind blow east and the wind blow west and left you to die

alone

Child #90

recorded by Peggy Seeger and Ewan MacColl on Blood and