Tonart: D major•
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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Ken has been a poor prisoner
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Prisoner alone in Spain,
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William the Winsbury
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Is laying with his
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daughter at home
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What troubles you,
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my own daughter, dear?
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Boy, you look so pale and one
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Have you had any sore sickness?
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Have you been sleeping with,
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with any man?
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I have never had any sore sickness
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Nor been sleeping with any man
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It is for you, my own, Father dear,
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Forbiding soul, spare.
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Cast off, cast off your
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Stand you na ked on the stone.
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I may see, now, whether you be
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Whether a maiden or nun
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She has cast off her batty brown gown
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And stands she naked on the stone
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Her haunches round
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and her girdle ashore
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Her apron strings they would not pin
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Is he a knight or a duke or a lord
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Or a man of birth or fame?
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Is he one of my own serving men
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Who's lately come
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He's not a knight, nor is he any dear
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Nor a man of birth or fame
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He's Willy on the Winsbury
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And I could buy, no longer my,
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my lay
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King has called for his merry men all
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Merry men thirteen an d three
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They must fetch for him
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Bang and he, he must be
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But when he came, the king be fore,
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He's dressed in the red silk.
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His hair is like the strands in gold,
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His skin is just like fresh milk.
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"'Tis no wonder," says the king,
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"'My daughter's heart you did win.
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If I was born a woman as I am born a man
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My bedfellow you would have been
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Now will you marry my daughter dear,
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By the truth in your right hand?
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Will you marry my own daughter Janet
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An d be a lord of our land?
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Sure, I'll marry your daughter, dear
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By the truth in my right hand
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An d I will marry your daughter, Janice
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The devil take all your land
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He has mounted her upon a
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Himself on a dappled grey,
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And she will be lady of as much land
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As she can ride on a long
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summer's day
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... ... ... ... ... you
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