I must also note here that one H. W. phrase—

"He said, God bless you every one,

-has crept into certain of the E texts of B.W.: b41, 2; d4; 3; and ƒ 32.

I now give text Ea with collations.

E TEXT.

(a)

THE BITTER WITHY.

1. As it fell out one high holiday

When drops of rain did fall, did fall,
Our Saviour begged leave of his Mother Mary
If he should go play at ball.

2. "Go play at ball, my own dear Son,

It's time that you were going or gone;
But don't you let me hear of any complaint
To-night when you come home."

3. So it's up ling call and down ling call
Our Saviour he did whoop and call,
Until he met with three jolly jordans,
And he asked them to play at ball.

4. They said they were lords and ladies' sons
Born in power all in all-

"And you are but a poor maiden's child,
Born in an oxen's stall."

5. "If I am but a poor maiden's child
Born in an oxen's stall,

I will let you know at the very latter end

That I am above you all."

Life in England (1837). Prof. Gerould appears to regard the Holy Well as a debased version of The Bitter Withy (paper cited above, 164).

1A phrase perfectly familiar, of course, to students of traditional and

6. So our Saviour built a bridge with the beams of the sun And over the sea, the sea went he,

And after did follow the three jolly jordans,

And they were all drowned three.

7. So it's up ling call and down ling call,
Their mothers they did whoop and call,
Saying, "Mary mild, call home your child,
For ours are drowned all."

8. Then Mary mild she called home her child
And laid him across her tender knee,
And with the handfull of bitter withy
She gave him the slashes three.

9. "Oh the withy, the withy, the bitter withy,
That has caused me to ache and to smart,
Oh the withy shall be the very first tree
That shall perish and die at the heart."

a.

b.

a 1-3 are combined into two irregular six-lined stanzas:

b1. Our Saviour asked leave of his mother Mary

If he should go to play at ball.

"To play at ball, my own dear son

It is time you was gone and coming home,
But pray do not let me hear of your ill-doings
At night when you do come home."

b2. It is up leencorn and down leencorn
Our saviour he did run, did run,
Untill he met with three jolly jerdins

And asked them all three :

"Now which of you all three jolly jerdins
Will play at ball with me?"

63. "Oh we are lords and ladies' sons

And born," etc.

From this point b3 corresponds to a 4, and so on:

64

"You are safe, you are safe, you are safe," said he,
"You are safe, you are safe, I plainly do see,

662 they did hoot and hollow.

663 Mary, Mary mild.

673,4 And she with her hand full of those cold, cold bitter withies,

681

24

She gave him the lashes three.

"Oh you cold, you cold, O you cold bitter withy.'

At night.

C.

334 It was at the Holy Well hard by the Willow Tree

That he met with the jolly jerdins three.

d4= God bless you all both great and small,

Your bodies I plainly see;

If you will let me play with you

Then you shall play with me.

d5 corresponds to a 4, and so on:

31,2 Well meet, well meet, you three great dons,

Your bodies are safe you see.

42 And born in all in all.

44 in an old ox stall.

x.

54 as in e.

71 Oh it was up in call, it was down in call.
81 Oh then Mary picked a handfull of withy.

Collation of important variations in the B.W. verses of texts x, y, z.
73 these three jolly jordens [called in 33 three of the finest children].
Then up a lane call and down lane call.

the three jordons [called in 334 and 43,4 three as nice children As ever a tongue could tell].

81

y.

82

(=a62) And over the river Jordon went he.

83

91

(=a71) Then up they called and down they called.

71 So it was up in lee in corn and down lee in corn.

So much for the Herefordshire versions. When I received the Bidford draft mentioned above (see p. 192), it occurred to me that application to other country newspapers might produce other versions. I wrote a letter, similar to the one printed by the Hereford Times, which appeared in the Evesham Journal, Feb. 29, 1908. In reply to this there appeared one new verse text and one very curious version printed (as it was written) in prose. I call these:

Eg. Obtained by Mr. and Mrs. George Gibbs, of Bengeworth; "a version as sung at Evesham more than forty years ago." Printed in the Evesham Journal, Ap. 4, 1908.

I. As it fell out on a bright holiday,
Small hail from the sky did fall.
Our Saviour asked His mother dear,
If he may go and play at ball.

2. "At ball! At ball! my own dear Son!
It is time that you were gone,
And don't let me hear of any doings
At night when you come home."

3. So up Lincull and down Lincull,

4.

"Good morn! Good morn! Good morn!" said they.

"Good morning!" then said He.

"Which of you three rich young men

5. "We are all lords and ladies' sons,
Born in our bower and hall;

And Thou art nothing but a poor maid's child,

Born in an ox's stall."

6. "If you are all lords and ladies' sons,
Born in your bower and hall,

I will make you believe in your latter end,

I'm an angel above you all."

7. So he made him a bridge with the beams of the sun,
And o'er the water crossed he;

These rich young lords followed after Him,
And drowned they were, all three.

8. Then up Lincull, and down Lincull,
These young lords' mothers ran,

Saying, "Mary mild fetch home your child,
For ours he has drowned all."

9. So Mary mild fetched home her child,
And laid him across her knee;
With a handful of green withy twigs
She gave him slashes three.

10. "Oh! withy, Oh! withy, Oh! bitter withy,
Thou has caused me to smart,

And the withy shall be the very first tree

That shall perish at the heart."

Eh. A version sent by Mrs. H. Collins, Broadway, Worcestershire. Printed, exactly as sent, in the Evesham Journal, Ap. 11, 1908.

THE BITTER WITHY.

Our Saviour asked of his dear mother if he could go and play. He saw two little Jardene sons playing at ball. He asked if he could play at ball with them. At ball with you? How could we play at ball with you? We're two little Jardene sons born in our bowry hall. You're nothing but a poor maid's son born in an ox's stall. If you're two little Jardene sons born in a bowry hall, and I'm nothing but a poor maid's son born in an ox's stall, I'm an angel above you all. He built him a bridge with the beams of the sun, and across the water did go; two little Jardenes tried to do the same, and drowned they were both. O Mary mild fetch home your child, for drowned ours are both. Then Mary mild fetched home her child and laid him across her knee, with a bunch of green withy twigs she gave him lashes three. O Mother, Mother, this bitter withy makes my back to smart. Every withy tree that I come to