From the recording The Mistletoe Bough


The Mistletoe Bough
The mistletoe hung in the castle hall,
The holly branch shone on the old oak wall;
And the baron’s retainers were blithe and gay,
And keeping their Christmas holiday.
The baron beheld with a father’s pride
His beautiful child, young Lovell’s bride;
While she with her bright eyes seemed to be
The star of that goodly company.
O, the Mistletoe Bough!
“I’m weary of dancing now,” she cried;
“Here, tarry a moment - I’ll hide, I’ll hide!
And, Lovell, be sure thou’rt first to trace
The clue to my secret lurking place.”
Away she ran - and her friends began
Each tower to search, and each nook to scan;
And young Lovell cried, “O, Where dost though hide?
I’m lonesome without thee, my own dear bride.”
O, the Mistletoe Bough!
They sought her that night, and they sought her next day,
They sought her in vain while a week passed away;
In the highest, the lowest, the loneliest spot,
Young Lovell sought wildly - but found her not.
And years flew by, and their grief at last
Was told as a sorrowful tale long past;
When Lovell appeared all the children cried,
“See! The old man weeps for his vanished bride.”
O, the Mistletoe Bough!
At length an oak chest, that had long lain hid,
Was found in the castle - they raised the lid,
And a skeleton form lay mouldering there
In the bridal wreath of that lady fair!
O, sad was her fate! When in sportive jest
She hid from her lord in the old oak chest
It closed with a spring! - and, dreadful doom,
The bride lay trapped in her living tomb!
O, the Mistletoe Bough!
Words by Thomas Haynes Bayly (a ballad composed around 1830)
Adapted, altered and arranged by Beck Siàn
Music, keyboards and vocals by Beck Siàn
Recorded by Beck Siàn and Jonathan Kershaw