54A: The Cherry-Tree Carol

 
54A.1        JOSEPH was an old man,
        and an old man was he,
        When he wedded Mary,
        in the land of Galilee.
54A.2        Joseph and Mary walked
        through an orchard good,
        Where was cherries and berries,
        so red as any blood.
54A.3        Joseph and Mary walked
        through an orchard green,
        Where was berries and cherries,
        as thick as might be seen.
54A.4   O then bespoke Mary,
        so meek and so mild:
        ‘Pluck me one cherry, Joseph,
        for I am with child.’
54A.5   O then bespoke Joseph,
        with words most unkind:
        ‘Let him pluck thee a cherry
        that brought thee with child.’
54A.6   O then bespoke the babe,
        within his mother’s womb:
        ‘Bow down then the tallest tree,
        for my mother to have some.’
54A.7   Then bowed down the highest tree
        unto his mother’s hand;
        Then she cried, See, Joseph,
        I have cherries at command.
54A.8   O then bespake Joseph:
        ‘I have done Mary wrong;
        But cheer up, my dearest,
        and be not cast down.’
54A.9   Then Mary plucked a cherry,
        as red as the blood,
        Then Mary went home
        with her heavy load.
54A.10  Then Mary took her babe,
        and sat him on her knee,
        Saying, My dear son, tell me
        what this world will be.
54A.11  ‘O I shall be as dead, mother,
        as the stones in the wall;
        O the stones in the streets, mother,
        shall mourn for me all.
54A.12        ‘Upon Easter-day, mother,
        my uprising shall be;
        O the sun and the moon, mother,
        shall both rise with me.’
 
 

54B: The Cherry-Tree Carol

 
54B.1        JOSEPH was an old man,
        and an old man was he,
        And he married Mary,
        the Queen of Galilee.
54B.2   When Joseph was married,
        and Mary home had brought,
        Mary proved with child,
        and Joseph knew it not.
54B.3        Joseph and Mary walked
        through a garden gay,
        Where the cherries they grew
        upon every tree.
54B.4   O then bespoke Mary,
        with words both meek and mild:
        ‘O gather me cherries, Joseph,
        they run so in my mind.’
54B.5   And then replied Joseph,
        with words so unkind:
        ‘Let him gather thee cherries
        that got thee with child.’
54B.6   O then bespoke our Saviour,
        all in his mother’s womb:
        ‘Bow down, good cherry-tree,
        to my mother’s hand.’
54B.7   The uppermost sprig
        bowed down to Mary’s knee:
        ‘Thus you may see, Joseph,
        these cherries are for me.’
54B.8   ‘O eat your cherries, Mary,
        O eat your cherries now;
        O eat your cherries, Mary,
        that grow upon the bough.’
54B.9   As Joseph was a walking,
        he heard an angel sing:
        ‘This night shall be born
        our heavenly king.
54B.10  ‘He neither shall be born
        in housen nor in hall,
        Nor in the place of Paradise,
        but in an ox’s stall.
54B.11  ‘He neither shall be clothed
        in purple nor in pall,
        But all in fair linen,
        as were babies all.
54B.12  ‘He neither shall be rocked
        in silver nor in gold,
        But in a wooden cradle,
        that rocks on the mould.
54B.13  ‘He neither shall be christened
        in white wine nor red,
        But with fair spring water,
        with which we were christened.’
54B.14  Then Mary took her young son,
        and set him on her knee:
        ‘I pray thee now, dear child,
        tell how this world shall be.’
54B.15  ‘O I shall be as dead, mother,
        as the stones in the wall;
        O the stones in the street, mother,
        shall mourn for me all.
54B.16  ‘And upon a Wednesday
        my vow I will make,
        And upon Good Friday
        my death I will take.
54B.17        ‘Upon Easter-day, mother,
        my rising shall be;
        O the sun and the moon
        shall uprise with me.
54B.18  ’ The people shall rejoice,
        and the birds they shall sing,
        To see the uprising
        of the heavenly king.’
 
 

54C: The Cherry-Tree Carol

 
54C.1        JOSEPH was an old man,
        an old man was he,
        He married sweet Mary,
        the Queen of Galilee.
54C.2   As they went a walking
        in the garden so gay,
        Maid Mary spied cherries,
        hanging over yon tree.
54C.3   Mary said to Joseph,
        with her sweet lips so mild,
        ‘Pluck those cherries, Joseph,
        for to give to my child.’
54C.4   O then replied Joseph,
        with words so unkind,
        ‘I will pluck no cherries
        for to give to thy child.’
54C.5   Mary said to cherry-tree,
        ‘Bow down to my knee,
        That I may pluck cherries,
        by one, two, and three.’
54C.6   The uppermost sprig then
        bowed down to her knee:
        ‘Thus you may see, Joseph,
        these cherries are for me.’
54C.7   ‘O eat your cherries, Mary,
        O eat your cherries now,
        O eat your cherries, Mary,
        that grow upon the bough.’
54C.8   As Joseph was a walking
        he heard angels sing,
        ‘This night there shall be born
        our heavenly king.
54C.9   ‘He neither shall be born
        in house nor in hall,
        Nor in the place of Paradise,
        but in an ox-stall.
54C.10  ‘He shall not be clothed
        in purple nor pall,
        But all in fair linen,
        as wear babies all.
54C.11  ‘He shall not be rocked
        in silver nor gold,
        But in a wooden cradle,
        that rocks on the mould.
54C.12  ‘He neither shall be christened
        in milk nor in wine,
        But in pure spring-well water,
        fresh sprung from Bethine.’
54C.13  Mary took her baby,
        she dressed him so sweet;
        She laid him in a manger,
        all there for to sleep.
54C.14  As she stood over him
        she heard angels sing,
        ‘Oh bless our dear Saviour,
        our heavenly king.’
 
 

54D: The Cherry-Tree Carol

 
54D.1   O JOSEPH was an old man,
        and an old man was he,
        And he married Mary,
        from the land of Galilee.
54D.2   Oft after he married her,
        how warm he were abroad,
        . . . .
        . . . .
54D.3   Then Mary and Joseph
        walkd down to the gardens cool;
        Then Mary spied a cherry,
        as red as any blood.
54D.4        ‘Brother Joseph, pluck the cherry,
        for I am with child:’
        ‘Let him pluck the cherry, Mary,
        as is father to the child.’
54D.5   Then our blessed Saviour spoke,
        from his mother’s womb:
        ‘Mary shall have cherries,
        and Joseph shall have none.’
54D.6   From the high bough the cherry-tree
        bowd down to Mary’s knee;
        Then Mary pluckt the cherry,
        by one, two, and three.
54D.7   They went a little further,
        and heard a great din:
        ‘God bless our sweet Saviour,
        our heaven’s love in.’
54D.8   Our Saviour was not rocked
        in silver or in gold,
        But in a wooden cradle,
        like other babes all.
54D.9   Our Saviour was not christend
        in white wine or red,
        But in some spring water,
        like other babes all.
 
 
 

173H: Mary Hamilton

 
173H.1   ‘WHAN I was a babe, and a very little babe,
         And stood at my mither’s knee,
         Nae witch nor warlock did unfauld
         The death I was to dree.
173H.2   ‘But my mither was a proud woman,
         A proud woman and a bauld;
         And she hired me to Queen Mary’s bouer,
         When scarce eleven years auld.
173H.3   ‘O happy, happy is the maid,
         That’s born of beauty free!
         It was my dimpling rosy cheeks
         That’s been the dule o me;
         And wae be to that weirdless wicht,
         And a’ his witcherie!’
173H.4   Word’s gane up and word’s gane doun,
         An word’s gane to the ha,
         That Mary Hamilton was wi bairn,
         An na body kend to wha.
173H.5   But in and cam the queen hersel,
         Wi gowd plait on her hair:
         Says, Mary Hamilton, whare is the babe
         That I heard greet sae sair?
173H.6   ‘There is na babe within my bouer,
         And I hope there neer will be;
         But it’s me wi a sair and sick colic,
         And I’m just like to dee.’
173H.7   But they looked up, they looked down,
         Atween the bowsters and the wa,
         It’s there they got a bonnie lad-bairn,
         But its life it was awa.
173H.8   ‘Rise up, rise up, Mary Hamilton,
         Rise up, and dress ye fine,
         For you maun gang to Edinbruch,
         And stand afore the nine.
173H.9   ‘Ye’ll no put on the dowie black,
         Nor yet the dowie brown;
         But ye’ll put on the robes o red,
         To sheen thro Edinbruch town.’
173H.10  ‘I’ll no put on the dowie black,
         Nor yet the dowie brown;
         But I’ll put on the robes o red,
         To sheen thro Edinbruch town.’
173H.11  As they gaed thro Edinbruch town,
         And down by the Nether-bow,
         There war monie a lady fair
         Siching and crying, Och how!
173H.12  ‘O weep nae mair for me, ladies,
         Weep nae mair for me!
         Yestreen I killed my ain bairn,
         The day I deserve to dee.
173H.13  ‘What need ye hech and how, ladies?
         What need ye how for me?
         Ye never saw grace at a graceless face,
         Queen Mary has nane to gie.’
173H.14  ‘Gae forward, gae forward,’ the queen she said,
         ‘Gae forward, that ye may see;
         For the very same words that ye hae said
         Sall hang ye on the gallows-tree.’
173H.15  As she gaed up the Tolbooth stairs,
         She gied loud lauchters three;
         But or ever she cam down again,
         She was condemnd to dee.
173H.16  ‘O tak example frae me, Maries,
         O tak example frae me,
         Nor gie your luve to courtly lords,
         Nor heed their witchin’ ee.
173H.17  ‘But wae be to the Queen hersel,
         She micht hae pardond me;
         But sair she’s striven for me to hang
         Upon the gallows-tree.
173H.18  ‘Yestreen the Queen had four Maries,
         The nicht she’ll hae but three;
         There was Mary Beatoun, Mary Seaton,
         And Mary Carmichael, and me.
173H.19  ‘Aft hae I set pearls in her hair,
         Aft hae I lac’d her gown,
         And this is the reward I now get,
         To be hangd in Edinbruch town!
173H.20  ‘O a’ ye mariners, far and near,
         That sail ayont the faem,
         O dinna let my father and mither ken
         But what I am coming hame!
173H.21  ‘O a’ ye mariners, far and near,
         That sail ayont the sea,
         Let na my father and mither ken
         The death I am to dee!
173H.22  ‘Sae, weep na mair for me. ladies,
         Weep na mair for me;
         The mither that kills her ain bairn
         Deserves weel for to dee.’