[Contents.] 
   [About the Band.] 
   [Their Music.] 
   [Photography.] 
   [Press Materials.] 
   
                           Join our mailing list:
                               _____________
                                 Subscribe
                                      
                                                          [Their Music.] 
                     Broadside Electric  o PO Box 331, Ardmore, PA  19003
                                  +1 (610) 667-9219  o info@broadside.org
                                             ____________________  Search
     _________________________________________________________________
   
   [Lyrics.] [Text Only.] : [Help.] : [Site Map.] << < > >> 
   
Wife of Usher's Well

   There lived a wife at Usher's Well
   And a wealthy wife was she
   She had three stout and stalwart sons
   She sent them over the sea
   
   They had not been a week from her
   A week but barely one
   When word came to this carline wife
   That her three sons were gone
   
   They had not been a week from her
   A week but barely three
   When word came to that carline wife
   Her sons she'd never see
   
   "I wish the winds may never cease
   Nor flashes in the flood
   'Til my three sons come home to me
   In earthly flesh and blood"
   
   O now the day is over
   The night is drawing nigh
   The shadows of the evening
   Steal across the sky
   
   It fell about one Easter Eve
   On a night so dark and long,
   That wife's three sons came home to her
   Beneath the light of the moon
   
   Their hats were bark, their coats were moss,
   With dirt all wet with worm
   But the wife could not contain her joy
   At her three sons' return
   
   "Blow up the fire, my maidens
   Bring water from the well
   For all my house shall feast this night
   Since my three sons are well."
   
   O now the day is over...
   
   Up then crowed the red, red cock
   and up then crowed the grey
   The eldest to the youngest said
   "It's time we were away."
   
   "The cock does crow, the day does dawn
   The grumbling worms do chide
   If we are missed out of our place
   A sore pain we must bide."
   
   "Fare thee well, my mother dear,
   farewell to barn and byre
   and farewell to the maiden fair
   who kindles our mother's fire."
   
   O now the day is over...
   
   
   [Text Only.] : [Help.] : [Site Map.] << < > >> 
     _________________________________________________________________
   
       Instruments | Liner Notes | Lyrics | Repertoire | Merchandise
        About the Band | Their Music | Photography | Press Materials
                         Contents | Help | Site Map