The Bitter Withy chords by The Young Tradition

Intro:
D
C G
D
G D G

D
C G
D
G D G

Verse 1:

D
As it fell out upon a bright holiday

      C                     G
Small hail from the sky did fall;

                      D
Our Saviour asked his mother dear

   G        D       G
If he might play at ball.

Verse 2:

D
“At ball? At ball? My own dear son?

     C                 G
It's time that you was gone,

                         D
But don't let me hear of any doings

  G          D     G
Tonight when you return.”

Verse 3:

D
So it's up the hill, and down the hill

    C                   G
Our sweet young Saviour ran,

                   D
Until he met three rich young lords

    G       D      G
All 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         G
Will play at ball with me?”

Verse 5:

D
“Well, we're all lords' and ladies' sons,

    C                   G
All born in a bower and hall,

                          D
And you are nothing but a Jewish child

G          D    G
Born 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                      G
All born in your bower and hall

                          D
I'll prove to you at your latter end

       G     D         G
I'm an angel above you all”

Verse 7:

D
So he built him a bridge from the beams of the sun

    C                     G
And over the river danced he;

                               D
Them rich young lords followed after him

    G            D       G
And drowned they was all three.

Verse 8:

D
So it's up the hill and down the hill

      C                  G
Three rich young mothers run

                             D
Crying “Mary mild, fetch you home your child

    G         D            G
For ours he's drowned each one.”

Verse 9:

D
So Mary mild fetched home her child,

    C                   G
She laid him across her knee

                     D
And with a bundle of withy twigs

    G        D        G
She gave him thrashes three.

Verse 10:

D
“Oh bitter withy. oh bitter withy

     C            G
That causes me to smart.

                      D
Oh the withy shall be very first tree

   G      D      G
To perish at the heart.”

Instrumental 2:
D
C G
D
G D G