Child Owlet - Steeleye Span

Lady Erskine sits into her bower

Sewing a silken seam

A bonny shirt for Child Owlet

As he goes out and in

His face was fair, long was his hair

She’s called him to come near

«Oh, you must cuckold Lord Ronald

For all his lands and gear»

«Oh, lady, hold your tongue, for shame

For such should ne’er be done

How can I cuckold Lord Ronald

And me his sister’s son?»

Then she’s ta’en out a small penknife

That lay beside her head

She’s pricked herself below her breast

Which made her body bleed

Lord Ronald’s come into hr bower

Where sh did make her moan

«Oh, what is all this blood», he said

«That shines on your breastbone?»

«Young Child Owlet, your sister’s son

Is new gone from my bower

Had I not been a good woman

I’d have been Child Owlet’s whore»

Then he has taken Child Owlet

Thrown him in prison strong

And all his men, a council held

To judge Child Owlet’s wrong

Some said, Child Owlet, he should hang

Some said that he should burn

Some said they would he, Child Owlet

Between wild horses torn

«Ten horses in my stable stand

Can run right speedily

It’s you must to my stable go

And take out four for me»

They tied a horse unto each foot

And one unto each hand

They’ve sent them out o’er Elkin Moor

As fast as they could run

There was no stone on Elkin Moor

No broom nor bonny whin

But’s dripping with Child Owlet’s blood

And pieces of his skin

There was no grass on Elkin Moor

No broom nor bonny rush

But’s dripping with Child Owlet’s blood

And pieces of his flesh