 Dark is the evening, silent the hour.
Who is the minstrel by yon lonely tower,
Whose harp is so tenderly thrusting with skill?
Oh, who can it be but Ned on the Hill.
Who sings lady love, come to me now,
Come and live merrily under the bow,
And I'll pillow thy head where the fairies tread
If thou wilt but wed to Ned on the Hill.
Ned on the Hill has no castle or hall
No spearman or bowman to come to his call,
But one little archer with exquisite skill
Has shot a bold shaft for Ned on the Hill.
Who sings lady love, come to me now,
Come and live merrily under the bow,
And I'll pillow thy head where the fairies tread
If thou wilt but wed to Ned on the Hill.
It's hard to escape from this fair lady's bower
For high are the windows and guarded the tower,
But there's always a way where there is a will
So Helen is off with Ned on the Hill.
Who sings lady love, come to me now,
Come and live merrily under the bow,
And I'll pillow thy head where the fairies tread
If thou wilt but wed to Ned on the Hill.
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