Constant Farmer's Son- George Digweed (Hamp) 1906
[From: Henry Hammond Manuscript Collection (HAM/3/14/4).
R. Matteson 2016]
Constant Farmer's Son- sung by George Digweed, of Micheldever, Hampshire in March, 1906; collected by H.E.D. Hammond.
Tis of a merchant's daughter in London town did dwell,
So modest, fair and handsome, and her parents lovd her well,
She was admired by lords and squires, but all their hopes was vain,
There was only one, twas a farmer's son, young Mary's heart could gain.
Long time young William courted her, and fixed the wedding day,
His (Her) brothers both consented he should be sent to sea
There lives a lord, he pledged his word, and him we shall not shun;
Him we'll betray and then we'll slay her constant farmer's son.
A fair was held not far from town, these brothers went straightway,
They asked young William's company with them to spend the day;
But mark, returning home again they sware his race was run,
And with a stake the life did take of her constant farmer's son.
As Mary on her pillow lay, she dreamt such dreadful dreams,
She dreamt she saw his body lay his blood it 'peared in streams,
Then she arose; put on her clothes, to seek her love did run,
Dead and cold, she did behold her constant farmer's son.
The salt tear stood upon his cheeks, all mingled with his gore,
She shrunk in vain, to ease her pain, and kissed him ten times o'er,
She gathered green leaves from the trees, to keep him from the sun,
Three nights and days she passed away with her constant farmer's son.
Sharp hunger it come creeping on, poor girl she shrunk with woe;
Tried and find the murderer then straightway home did go,
"Parents dear, you soon shall hear, the dreadful deed is done,
In yonder vale lies dead and pale my constant farmer's son.
Up come her oldest brother and said it was not he,
The same replied the younger one, and sware most bitterly,
But Mary said, "Don't turn so red, nor try the laws (loss) to shun,
You done the deed, and you shall bleed for my constant farmer's son.
And these two villains owned the guilt, and for the same did die;
Young Mary fair in deep despair, and never ceased to cry.
Her parents they did fade away, their glass of life was run,
Poor Mary cried, in sorrow died for her constant farmer's son.