E G D A
The elf-knight sits on yonder hill
E G D A
Fine flowers in the valley
E G D A
He blows his horn both loud and shrill
E G D A
As the rose is blown
E G D A
He blows it East, he blows it West
E G D A
Fine flowers in the valley
E G D A
He blows it where he liketh best
E G D A
As the rose is blown
A C G D
Lady Isabel sits a-sewing
A C G D
Fine flowers in the valley
A C G D
When she heard the elf-knight's horn a-blowing
A C G D
As the rose is blown
A C G D
'Would I had that horn a-blowingâ'
A C G D
Fine flowers in the valley
A C G D
'And yon elf-knight for to sleep in my bosomâ'
A C G D
As the rose is blown
A C G D
Scarcely had she these words spoken
A C G D
Fine flowers in the valley
A C G D
When in at the window the elf-knight's broken
A C G D
As the rose is blown
E G D A
'It's a very strange matter, fair maid' said he
E G D A
Fine flowers in the valley
E G D A
'I cannot blow my horn, but you call on meâ'
E G D A
As the rose is blown
E G D A
'But will you go to the greenwood side'â'�
E G D A
Fine flowers in the valley
E G D A
'If you will not go, I'll cause you to rideâ'
E G D A
As the rose is blown
A C G D
He leapt on his horse and she on another
A C G D
Fine flowers in the valley
A C G D
And they rode on to the greenwood together
A C G D
As the rose is blown
A C G D
'Light down, light down, Isabel' said he
A C G D
Fine flowers in the valley
A C G D
'For we're come to the place where you are to dieâ'
A C G D
As the rose is blown
A C G D
'It's seven kings daughters, here have I slainâ'
A C G D
Fine flowers in the valley
A C G D
'And you shall be the eighth of themâ'
A C G D
As the rose is blown
E G D A
'Sit down a-while, lay your head on my kneeâ'
E G D A
Fine flowers in the valley
E G D A
'That we may rest before I dieâ'
E G D A
As the rose is blown
E G D A
She stroked him so fast the nearer he did creep
E G D A
Fine flowers in the valley
E G D A
And with a small charm, she's lulled him to sleep
E G D A
As the rose is blown
A C G D
With his own sword-belt, so fast she's bound him
A C G D
Fine flowers in the valley
A C G D
With his own dagger so sore she's stabbed him
A C G D
As the rose is blown
A C G D
'If seven kings daughters here have you slainâ'
A C G D
Fine flowers in the valley
A C G D
'Then lie you here, a husband to them allâ'
A C G D
As the rose is blown