paroles de chanson The Grazier's Daughter - June Tabor
Oh
the
grazier's
daughter
living
near
A
fair
young
damsel
as
you
shall
hear
It's
up
to
London
she
did
go
To
seek
for
service
as
you
shall
know
Her
master
having
but
one
son
Oh
she
bein'
fair,
his
heart
she
won
Young
Betsy
bein'
so
very
fair
She
brought
his
heart
into
a
snare
One
Sunday
evening
he
stole
her
thyme
And
unto
Betsy
told
his
mind
My
own
swearing
bower's
above
'Tis
you
fair
Betsy,'tis
you
I
love
His
mother
then
bein'
standing
nigh
Hearing
these
words
that
her
son
did
say
Next
morning
by
the
break
of
day
Unto
fair
Betsy
she
took
away
Sayin'
"Rise
up,
rise
up,
my
fair
Betsy
And
dress
yourself
most
gallantly
For
'tis
to
the
country
you
must
go
All
along
with
me
for
one
day
or
two"
And
as
they
were
crossing
o'er
the
plain
They
spied
some
ships
sailing
on
the
main
No
wit,
no
wit
this
poor
woman
had
But
to
sell
poor
Betsy
to
be
a
slave
Then
a
few
days
after
the
mother
returned
And
it's
"welcome
mother"
replies
the
son
"But
tell
me,
tell
me
true
I
pray
Oh
where
is
Betsy
behind
you,
say"
"Oh
son,
oh
son,
I
plainly
see
The
love
you
bear
for
poor
Betsy
But
your
sobbin'
and
sighin'
are
all
in
vain
Young
Betsy
sailing
across
the
main"
In
a
few
days
after
the
son
lies
sick
No
sort
o'
music
his
heart
would
take
But
he
often
sighed
and
he
often
cried
"Oh
Betsy,
Betsy,
I
shall
die"
And
in
a
few
days
after
the
son
lies
dead
Mother
wrings
her
hands
and
she
tears
her
hair
"If
I
could
bring
back
my
son
again
I'd
send
poor
Betsy
across
the
main"
Oh
the
grazier's
daughter
living
near
A
fair
young
damsel
as
you
shall
hear
It's
up
to
London
she
did
go
To
seek
for
service
as
you
shall
know
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