The Grazier's Daughter (Tabor June)

Oh the grazier's daughter living near A fair young damsel as you shall hear It's up to London she did go To seek for service as you shall know Her master having but one son Oh she bein' fair, his heart she won Young Betsy bein' so very fair She brought his heart into a snare One sunday evening he stole her thyme And unto Betsy told his mind My?own swearing bower's above? 'Tis you fair Betsy, 'tis you I love His mother then bein' standing nigh Hearing these words that her son did say Next morning by the break of day Unto fair Betsy she took away Sayin' "Rise up, rise up, my fair Betsy And dress yourself most gallantly For 'tis to the country you must go All along with me for one day or two" And as they were crossing o'er the plain They spied some ships sailing on the main No wit, no wit this poor woman had But to sell poor Betsy to be a slave Then a few days after the mother returned And it's "welcome mother" replies the son "But tell me, tell me true I pray Oh where is Betsy behind you, say" "Oh son, oh son, I plainly see The love you bear for poor Betsy But your sobbin' and sighin' are all in vain Young Betsy sailing across the main" In a few days after the son lies sick No sort o' music his heart would take But he often sighed and he often cried "Oh Betsy, Betsy, I shall die" And in a few days after the son lies dead Mother wrings her hands and she tears her hair "If I could bring back my son again I'd send poor Betsy across the main" Oh the grazier's daughter living near A fair young damsel as you shall hear It's up to London she did go To seek for service as you shall know