She looked out of the window as white as any milk
And he looked in at the
window as black as any silk
Chorus
Hello, hello, hello, hello you coal black smith
You have done me no harm
You never shall have my maidenhead
That I have kept so long
I'd rather die a maid
Ah, but then she said and be buried all in my grave
Than to have such a nasty, husky, dusky, fusky, musky
Coal black smith
A maiden I will die
She
became a duck, a duck all on the stream
And he became a water dog and
fetched her back again
Chorus
She became a star, a star all in the night
And he became a thundercloud and muffled her out of sight
Chorus
She became a rose, a rose all in the wood
And he became a bumble bee and kissed her where she stood
Chorus
She became a nun, a nun all dressed in white
And he became a canting priest and prayed for her by night
Chorus
She became a trout, a trout all in the brook
And he became a feathered fly and catched her with his hook
Chorus
She became a corpse, a corpse all in the ground
And he became a the cold clay and smothered her all around
Chorus
- Trad. -
these lyrics as sung by Steeleye Span
Except for the dying part, i think this
scots ballad is a good illustration of
metamorphosis magic in action. This is Child's ballad #44, and occurs in many different variations. One of the versions has a nicely
ludicrously long version of the smith's description:
Nasty Dasky Lasky Masky Flasky Basky Wasky Blasky Kasky coal black smith. I can't find a good date for any of the versions, except that it may have originated from
Arabian Nights-type tales of
transformational
magic, and the story exists in other old southern european ballads.
Some versions end with some variant of this:
And once she woke he took her so
And still he bad her bide
And the lusty smith became her love
For all of her mighty pride.
And then skip the dying part, but i prefer the other ending. I couldn't very well root for the smith - he's so, well,
fusky.