Yarrow - Pentangle
Written by：Traditional
There was a lady from the north
Gets 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
And they made a vow amongst themselves
To fight for her on yarrow
She's combed his hair and she's washed his face
As she has done before
She's placed a brand down by his side
To fight for her 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
Father dirty father I dreamed dreamin'
I fear it will prove sorrow
Dreamed I was pulling the heather bell
On they dowy dens of yarrow
