There was a lady, and a lady gave Her children, she had three
She sent them away to the north country For to learn their grammar
They had not been there very long Since six months and a day
When death, cold death, come a-hastin' along And stole those babes away
She prayed to the Lord that was in heaven Who wears the golden crown
Praise sent to me, my three little babes Tonight or the morning soon
It was just about old Christmas time The night's been cold and clear
She looked and she saw her three little babes Come running home to her
She set a table, both long and wide On it put bread and wine
Come eat, come drink, my three little babes Come eat, come drink of mine
We want none of your bread, mother Neither do we want your wine
For I understand our Savior dear To His will we must resign
Green grass grows over our head, mother Cold clay is under our feet
And every tear you shed for us It wets our whining sheets