The Young Tradition – The Bitter Withy chords

[Intro]
D
C G
D
G D G

D
C G
D
G D G

[Verse 1]
DAs it fell out upon a bright holiday
      C                     GSmall hail from the sky did fall;
                      DOur Saviour asked his mother dear
   G        D       GIf he might play at ball.

[Verse 2]
D“At ball? At ball? My own dear son?
     C                 GIt's time that you was gone,
                         DBut don't let me hear of any doings
  G          D     GTonight when you return.”

[Verse 3]
DSo it's up the hill, and down the hill
    C                   GOur sweet young Saviour ran,
                   DUntil he met three rich young lords
    G       D      GAll playing in the sun.

[Verse 4]
D“Good morn, good morn, good morn”, cried they,
      C                 G“Good morning,” oh says he,
                            D“And which one of you three rich young lords
     G       D         GWill play at ball with me?”

[Verse 5]
D“Well, we're all lords' and ladies' sons,
    C                   GAll born in a bower and hall,
                          DAnd you are nothing but a Jewish child
G          D    GBorn in an oxen stall”

[Instrumental 1]
D
C G
D
G D G

[Verse 6]
D“Well, though you're lords' and ladies' sons
    C                      GAll born in your bower and hall
                          DI'll prove to you at your latter end
       G     D         GI'm an angel above you all”

[Verse 7]
DSo he built him a bridge from the beams of the sun
    C                     GAnd over the river danced he;
                               DThem rich young lords followed after him
    G            D       GAnd drowned they was all three.

[Verse 8]
DSo it's up the hill and down the hill
      C                  GThree rich young mothers run
                             DCrying “Mary mild, fetch you home your child
    G         D            GFor ours he's drowned each one.”

[Verse 9]
DSo Mary mild fetched home her child,
    C                   GShe laid him across her knee
                     DAnd with a bundle of withy twigs
    G        D        GShe gave him thrashes three.

[Verse 10]
D“Oh bitter withy. oh bitter withy
     C            GThat causes me to smart.
                      DOh the withy shall be very first tree
   G      D      GTo perish at the heart.”

[Instrumental 2]
D
C G
D
G D G