• Song:

    The Witch Of The Westmorland

  • Artist:

    Archie Fisher

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G5                   C5            G5               E5 
Pale was the wounded knight that bore the rowan shield 
G5                      D5       E5          C5                  D5 
Loud and cruel were the raven's cries that feasted on the field 
        G5                  C5          G5                 E5 
Saying beck water cold and clear will never clean your wound 
        G5                         D5      E5     C5                   D5 
There's none but the witch of the Westmorland can make thee hale and sound 
   G5                          C5             G5                     E5 
So turn, turn your stallion's head til his red mane flies in the wind 
        G5            D5        E5          C5                  D5 
And the rider of the moon goes by and the bright star falls behind 
     G5                  C5              G5                 E5 
And clear was the paley moon when his shadow passed him by 
   G5                       D5      E5             C5               D5 
Below the hills were the brightest stars when he heard the owlet cry 
        G5                    C5        G5                     E5 
Saying "Why do you ride this way, and wherefore came you here?" 
    G5                    D5       E5     C5                     D5 
"I seek the Witch of the Westmorland who dwells by the winding mere" 
         G5                  C5           G5                 E5 
And it's weary by the Ullswater and the misty brake fern way 
    G5                        D5        E5       C5              D5 
Til through the cleft of the Kirkstone Pass the winding water lay 
         G5                     C5          G5                     E5 
He said "Lie down, my brindled hound, and rest ye, my good grey hawk" 
    G5                    D5       E5         C5                 D5 
And thee, my steed, may graze thy fill for I must dismount and walk 
    G5                     C5        G5                 E5 
But come when you hear my horn and answer swift the call 
      G5                     D5        E5           C5                D5 
For I fear ere the sun will rise this morn ye will serve me best of all." 
         G5                   C5         G5              E5 
And it's down to the water's brim he's born the rowan shield 
        G5            D5       E5    C5                       D5 
And the goldenrod he has cast in to see what the lake might yield 
    G5                     C5         G5                   E5 
And wet rose she from the lake, and fast and fleet went she 
      G5                D5     E5           C5                  D5 
One half the form of a maiden fair with a jet black mare's body 
    G5                        C5            G5                E5 
And loud, long and shrill he blew til his steed was by his side 
     G5            D5        E5       C5              D5 
High overhead the grey hawk flew and swiftly he did ride 
    G5                         C5          G5                      E5 
Say "Course well, my brindled hound, and fetch me the jet black mare 
G5                    D5        E5        C5                   D5 
Stoop and strike, my good grey hawk, and bring me the maiden fair." 
          G5                         C5            G5                E5 
She said "Pray, sheathe thy silvery sword.  Lay down thy rowan shield 
      G5                D5         E5                C5              D5 
For I see by the briny blood that flows you've been wounded in the field" 
        G5                         C5           G5                   E5 
And she stood in a gown of velvet blue, bound round with a silver chain 
          G5                    D5      E5        C5                 D5 
and she's kissed his pale lips one and twice and three times round again 
          G5                               C5         G5                   E5 
And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod, full fast in her arms he lay 
    G5            D5       E5             C5               D5 
and he has risen hale and sound with the sun high in the day 
          G5                                C5             G5                 E5 
She said "Ride with your brindled hound at heel and your good grey hawk in hand 
        G5                 D5           E5            C5                   D5 
There's none can harm the knight who's lain with the Witch of the Westmorland"
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