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The Clerk’s Twa Sons o’ Owsenford

[ Roud 3902 ; Child 72 ; G/D 8:1931 ; Ballad Index C072 ; trad.]

Ewan MacColl sang The Clerk’s Twa Sons o’ Owsenford in 1982 on his and Peggy Seeger’s Blackthorne album Blood & Roses Volume 4. They noted:

In The English and Scots Popular Ballads, Professor Child has noted that several stanzas of The Clerk’s Twa Sons echo stanzas in The Wife of Usher’s Well (see Blood & Roses Volume 5). It is, in our opinion, those same stanzas which give the ballad its special flavour. The four texts given by Child are all from Scottish sources, though ballads with a similar theme have been reported from France, Italy, Spain, Germany and the Scandinavian countries.

Lyrics

Ewan MacColl sings The Clerk’s Twa Sons o’ Owsenford

O, I will sing to you a sang
It’ll grieve your heart fu’ sair;
How the clerk’s twa sons o’ Owsenford
Went aff to learn their lair.

Then oot and spak their mither dear,
“Dae weel, sons, at the school.
And keep awa’ frae young women, my sons,
And wi’ them dinnae play the fool.”

They hadnae been in fair Berwick toon
A twelvemonth and a day;
Till the clerk’s twa sons o’ Owsenford
Wi’ the mayor’s twa dochters lay.

Then the word has gane to the mayor o’ that toonm
And an angry man was he;
“I swear that I’ll tak’ neither meat nor drink
Till I see them baith hangit high.”

And word has gane to the clerk himsel’
As he sat at the wine,
That his twa bonnie sons in Berwick’s fair toon
In prison sträng were lyin’.

And when he cam’ tae Berwick toon,
He rode it roond aboot;
And he saw his twa sons at a shot-window
And the baith o’ them lookin’ oot.

“O, lie ye here for oxen, sons,
Or lie ye here for kye?
Or hae ye injured onyone,
Sae sair bound as ye lie?”

“O, it’s no’ for owsen, faither dear,
oxen Nor lie we here for kye
It’s a’ for a little dear-bocht love
Sae sair bound as we lie.”

Then he has gane to the mayor himsel’
And he spoke courteouslie:
“Will ye grant me my twa sons’ lives,
Either for gowd or fee?
Or will ye be sae good a man
As grant them baith to me?”

“I’ll no’ grant ye your twa sons’ lives,
Either for gowd or fee,
Nor will I be sae good a man
As gie them baith to thee.
Before the morn at twelve o’ the clock
Ye’ll see them baith hangit high.”

Up and spak his twa dochters
And they cried mournfully:
“O, will ye grant us oor twa loves’ lives
Either for gowd or fee?
Or will ye be sae good a man
As grant them baith to me?”

“O, it’s I’ll no’ grant your twa loves’ lives,
Either for gowd or fee;
Nor will I be sae good a man
As grant their lives to thee;
Before the morn at twelve o’ the clock
You’ll see them baith hangit high.”

Then he’s taen oot these twa young lads taken
And hanged them tae a tree,
And he’s bidden the clerk o’ Owsenford
Gang hame tae his lady.

“Ye’re welcome hame, my husband dear,
home Ye’re welcome hame to me;
But were are ray twa bonnie boys,
That should hae come hame wi’ thee?”

“They’re putten to a higher lair,
An’ tae a higher school;
Your bonnie sons ’11 no’ be here
Till the hallow days o’ Yule.”

“I will spend my time in grief and woe
I will neither laugh nor sing;
And there’s no’ a man in Owsenford
Will hear my bridles ring.”