x Hey, ho! what shall I say? A rogue hath sto-len my purse a-way; It was gone e'er I wist, On-ly now it is miss'd; Hey trol-ly, lol-ly, lol-ly, Come a-gain, ho! x As I was walk-ing, In a May morn-ing, I heard a bird sing Cuc-koo! The hart, he loves the high wood, The hare, he loves the hill, The knight, he loves his bright sword, The la-dy loves her will. x Now, when the sum-mer's fruits are past, The long ex-pec-ted har-vest comes at the last, Stack'd is the sweet hay, the clo-ver is mown, The gol-den grain needs all the la-bor a-lone; Now, mer-ry reap-ers, ply the sic-kle all, Down at each stroke the ripe ears fall. The great bells of Os-ney, They ring, they ring, they ring, they ring, The te-nor of them goes mer-ri-ly The lark, lin-net, and night-in-gale, To sing, some say, are best; Yet mer-ry, mer-ri-ly sings lit-tle ro-bin, Pret-ty ro-bin with the red breast. What shall he have that kill'd the deer? His lea-ther skin and horns to wear; Take thou no scorn to wear the horn, It was a crest ere thou wast born; The fa-ther's fa-ther bore it, And thy fa-ther wore it; The horn, the horn, the lus-ty horn, Is not a thing to laugh to scorn Sum-er is i-cum-en in, Lhu-de sing Cuc-cu! - - - - Grow-eth sed, and blow-eth med, and spring-eth w-de nu. - - - Sing Cuc-cu! Aw-e blet-eth af-ter lombe, Lhouth af-ter cal-ve cu; Bul-luc ster-teth, buc-ke ver-teth Mur-ie sing Cuc-cu, Cuc-cu, Cuc-cu! Wel sing-es thu Cuc-cu, Ne swik thu ne-ver nu. x Hark! hark! hark! how the woods do ring, With the hun-ter's hal-loo, with the hun-ter's hal-loo, and the cry that they fol-low, that they fol-low. O this is mu-sic this is mu-sic for a king! Hey, ho! to the green-wood now let us go, Sing heave and ho! And there shall we find both buck and doe, Sing heave and ho! The hart and hind and the lit-tle pret-ty roe, Sing heave and ho! Hey, ho! to the green-wood now x Now than-ked be the great god Pan, Who thus pre-serves my lov-ed life, And than-ked be I that keep a man, Who end-ed hath this bloo-dy strife; But if my man must prai-ses have, What then must I that keep the knave? x Come, mer-ry men, fol-low, hark, to the hol-low, Cheer-ly does the horn blow; The dogs pur-sue, the game's in view; A hunt-ing, hunt-ing, hunt-ing, hunt-ing; A hunt-ing, hunt-ing, hunt-ing, hunt-ing thus we go. x Come, fol-low, fol-low me, Come, fol-low, fol-low me, And we will to the green-wood go, With mirth and mer-ry glee. The wav-ing trees are green, And fresh as e'er were seen; The woods shall ring while we will sing, for mer-ry we will be. The wan-ton birds re-joice; Let's add to their notes our voice, And mer-ri-ly, mer-ri-ly troll, With heart and with soul, sweet me-lo-dy. Ban-bu-ry ale, Where, where, where? At the black-smith's house, I would I were there. x Heave and ho, rum-be-low, Row the boat, Nor-man row, Row to thy le-man. Heave and ho, rum-be-low, Row the boat, Nor-man row, Row to thy le-man.
Return to Internet Renaissance Band