Martin Carthy - The Two Magicians paroles de chanson

paroles de chanson The Two Magicians - Martin Carthy



The lady sits in her own front door
As straight as the willow wand,
And by there come a lusty smith
With a hammer in his hand.
And he said, "Bide, lady bide,
There′s nowhere you can hide.
For the lusty smith will be your love
And he will lay your pride."
"Well may you stand, you lady fair,
All in your robes of red,
But come tomorrow at this same time
I'll have you in me bed."
And he said, "Bide, lady bide,
There′s nowhere you can hide.
For the lusty smith will be your love
And he will lay your pride."
"Away, away, you coal-black smith,
Would you do me this wrong?
To think to have my maidenhead
That I have kept so long.
"I'd rather I was dead and cold
And me body laid in the grave
Than a lusty, dusty, coal-black smith
My maidenhead should have."
So the lady she held up her hand,
She swore upon her soul
That she'd not need the blacksmith′s love
For all of a box of gold.
But the blacksmith he held up his hand
And he swore upon the mass
Saying, "I′ll have you in me bed young girl
For the half of that or less."
"Bide lady bide,
There's nowhere you can hide.
For the lusty smith will be your love
And he will lay your pride."
So the lady she turned into a dove
And she flew up in the air;
But he became an old cock pigeon
And they flew pair and pair.
Crying, "Bide, lady bide,
There′s nowhere you can hide.
For the lusty smith will be your love
And he will lay your pride."
So the lady she turned into a hare
And she ran across the plain;
But he became a greyhound dog
And he ran her down again.
Crying, "Bide, lady bide,
There's nowhere you can hide.
For the lusty smith will be your love
And he will lay your pride."
So she became a little mare
As dark as the night was black;
But he became a golden saddle
And he clung onto her back.
Crying, "Bide, lady bide,
There′s nowhere you can hide.
For the lusty smith will be your love
And he will lay your pride."
So she became a hot griddle
And he became a cake;
And every move that poor girl made
The blacksmith was her mate.
Crying, "Bide, lady bide,
There's nowhere you can hide.
For the lusty smith will be your love
And he will lay your pride."
So she became a full-dressed ship
And she sailed on the sea;
But he became a bold captain
And aboard of her went he.
Crying, "Bide, lady bide,
There′s nowhere you can hide.
For the lusty smith will be your love
And he will lay your pride."
So the lady she ran into the bedroom
And she changed into a bed;
But he became a green coverlet
And he gained her maidenhead.
And was she woke he held her so
And still he bade her bide;
And the lusty smith became her love
For all her mighty pride.



Writer(s): traditional


Martin Carthy - Martin Carthy
Album Martin Carthy
date de sortie
01-01-1993




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