young man, came from hunting
faint and weary
what doth heil
my love, my deary
oh, mother dear
let my bed be made!
For I feel the gripe of the woody night shade
lie low, sweet brand-o
now all you young men, that do eat full well
and they that (suprigth?) mary
tis far better I entreat
to have toads for meat
then to eat of the wild wild berry
now this young man, he died fair soon
by the light of the hunters moon
twas' not by bone
or yet by blade!
but the deathly gripe of the woody night shade
lie low, sweet brand-o
his lordships wenched,
they hanged her high!
for she was the cause of her lords to die
and in her locks, entwined abrade!
in the deathly berries of the woody night shade
lie low, sweet brand-o
now all you young men, that do eat full well
and they that (suprigth?) mary
tis far better I entreat
to have toads for meat
then to eat of the wild wild berry