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Yarrow - Pentangle
There was a lady from the North
One scarse could find her marrow
She was courted by nine gentlemen
And a ploughboy lad from Yarrow
These nine sat drinking at the wine
As they had done before
They made a vow amongst themselves
To fight for her on Yarrow
She's washed his face she's combed his hair
As she has done before
She's placed a brand down by his side
To fight for her on Yarrow
As he came down yon high high hill
And down the halls of Yarrow
There he spied nine armed men
Come to fight with him on Yarrow
It's three he's wounded and three withdrew
And three he's killed on Yarrow
Till her brother John came in behind
And pierced his body through
Oh Father dear I dreamed a dream
I fear it will prove sorrow
Dreamed I was pulling the heather bell
On they dowy dens of Yarrow
Oh Father dear you've seven sons
You may wed them all tomorrow
But the fairest one amongst them all
Was the boy I loved on Yarrow
