Anonymous: Edward

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Edward

By Anonymous

18th Century

Child Ballad 13

What makes that blood on the point of your knife?
My son, now tell to me
It is the blood of my old grey mare
Who plowed the fields for me, me, me
Who plowed the fields for me.
It is too red for your old grey mare
My son, now tell to me
It is the blood of my old coon dog
Who chased the fox for me, me me
Who chased the fox for me.
It is too red for your old coon dog
My son, now tell to me
It is the blood of my brother John
Who hoed the corn for me, me, me
Who hoed the corn for me.
What did you fall out about?
My son, now tell to me
Because he cut yon holly bush
Which might have been a tree, tree, tree
Which might have been a tree.
What will you say when your father comes back
When he comes home from town?
I'll set my foot in yonder boat
And sail the ocean round, round, round
I'll sail the ocean round.
When will you come back, my own dear son?
My son, now tell to me
When the sun it sets in yonder sycamore tree
And that will never be, be, be
And that will never be.

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DayPoems Poem No. 2514

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