Songs > Mattie Groves
Dm A holiday, a holiday The first one of the year F C Lord Donnell's wife came into the church F C Dm The gospel for to hear And when the meeting it was done She cast her eyes about And there she spied young Mattie Groves A wanderin' in the crowd Come home with me young Mattie Groves Come home with me tonight Come home with me young Mattie Groves And sleep with me tonight Well I can't go home, I won't go home And sleep with you tonight By the rings on your fingers I can tell You are Lord Donnell's wife So what if I am Lord Donnell's wife Lord Donnell's not at home He is out in the high cornfields Bringin' the yearlings home A servant who was standing by He heard what was said He swore Lord Donnell, he would know Before the sun had set And in his hurry to carry the news He filled his breast and ran And when he came to the broad mill stream He took off his shoes and swam Mattie Groves he lay down And took a little sleep When he awoke, Lord Donnell Was standing at his feet sayin' How do you like my feather bed? How do you like my sheets? How do you like my lady fair Who lies in your arms asleep? Oh it's well I like your feather bed, Better I like your sheets But best of all your lady fair Who lies in me arms asleep Get up get up! Lord Donnell cried Get up as quick as you can It'll never be said in fair England That I slew a naked man Well I can't up, I won't get up I won't get up for my life For you have two long beaten swords And I have nary a knife It's true I have two beaten swords They cost me deep in the purse And you shall have the best of them And I shall have the worse And you shall strike the very first blow And strike it like a man I will strike the very next blow I'll kill you if I can So Mattie struck the very first blow And he hurt Lord Donnell sore Lord Donnell struck the very next blow And Mattie struck no more Then Lord Donnell, he took his wife And he sat her on his knee Sayin', Who do you love the best of us Dead Mattie Groves or me? Then spoke up his own dear wife Never heard her speak so free I'd rather have a kiss from dead Mattie's lips Than you and your finery Then Lord Donnell, he jumped right up Loudly he did squall He struck his wife right through the heart He pinned her against the wall A grave, a grave Lord Donnell cried To put these lovers in But bury my lady at the top For she was of noble kin