Lyrics The Worcestershire Wedding - Martin Carthy

An old woman all clothed in grey
Had a daughter both charming and young
That Roger deluded away
With his false flattering tongue
With him she so often had lain
Abroad in the meadows and fields
Till her belly grew up to her chin
And her spirits right down to her heels
O the diddle oh fol the dol diddle dum day
Cries her mother, "That′s what you expect
When you play the hey ding-a-ding!
Why didn't you follow my rule
And tie your two toes in a string?"
"It was Roger," the daughter replied
"Called me his dear pretty bird
He said he would make me his bride
But he wasn′t as good as his word."
Fol the diddle oh fol the dol diddle dum day
"Go fetch me my crutches," she cried
"And bring me my spectacles too
For if he will not make you his bride
I'll sure split his head into two!"
She come to him there at the mill
At him with her crutches she fly
Cries, "Why don't you marry my daughter
And make her as honest as I?"
Fol the diddle oh fol the dol diddle dum day
"Oh what will you give," he cries
"If I take her now off your hands?
You must make me the lord of your store
Your money your building and land."
Cries she, "You shall have all you wish
My cattle, my silver and gold."
Says he, "I′ve been looking for this
It′ll keep out the wind and the cold."
Fol the diddle oh fol the dol diddle dum day
Then hey for a girl or a boy
Young missus looked fine as a duchess
Mother danced and she capered for joy
And she danced a fine jig on her crutches
Fol lol the diddle oh fol the dol diddle dum day