The Witch Of The Westmorland Chords by Stan Rogers

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_ [G] _ _ Hail was the [C] wounded knight, [G] that bore the rowan shield.
Loud and cruel were the raven's [C] cries that [G] feasted on the field.
Singing back, water cold and [C] clear, [G] will never clean your wound.
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There's none but the witch of the West [C] Maryland can make thee [G] heal and soothe.
So turn, turn your [C] stallion's [G] head, till his red mane [C] flies in the wind.
[G] And the rider of the [C] moon goes by, and the bright star [G] falls behind.
And clear was the paling moon, when shadow passed him [C] by.
[G] Below the hill were the [C] brightest stars, when he [G] heard the owl cry.
Singing, why do you [C] ride this way?
[G] _ Wherefore came [C] you [G] here?
I seek the witch of the West [C] Maryland, who [G] dwells by the winding mere.
Then it's weary by the [C] Owl's water, [G] and the misty [C] break-fern [G] way.
He'll prove the cleft of the [C] Kirkston, past the winding [G] waddle-lay.
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[G] said, lie down, ye [C] brindle-town, [G]
rest ye me good [C] grey hawk.
[G] And thee, my steed, may grace [C] thy fill, for a musty [G] smelting walk.
But come when you hear my horn, and answer swift the call.
For I fear the sun will [C] rise this morn, you will serve me [G] best of all.
And it's down to the [C] water's [G] brim, he's borne the rowan's shield.
And the golden rod he has cast [C] in, to see what the [G] lake might yield.
And wet rose she [C] from the lake, [G] and fast and fleet [C] went she.
[G] One half the [D] form of a [C] maiden fair, with a jet black [D] mare's body.
[G] And loud, long and shrill [C] he flew, [G] till his speed was [C] by his height.
And high [G] _
[D] overhead the [Em] grey hawk [C] flew, and swiftly he did [D] ride.
[G] Saying, course well, ye [C] brindle-town, [G] fetch me the [C] jet black mare.
[G] Stoop and [D] strike me [Em] good grey [C] hawk, and bring me the [D] maiden fair.
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[G] She said, pray she, [C] thy silvery sword, [G] lay down thy rowan's shield.
For I see by the briny blood [C] that flows, you've been wounded [G] in the field.
And she stood in a gown of the velvet [C] blue, [G]
bound round with a [C] silver chain.
[G] And she's kissed his bailips [C] once and twice, and three times [G] round again.
And she's bound his wound with [C] the golden rod, oh, [G] fast [C] in her arms he lay.
[G] And he has risen [C] ale, and soon will the sun rise [G] in the day.
She said, ride with your brindle [C]-towns at [G] heel.
And your jet grey [C] hawk in hand, [G] there's none can [D] harm.
But [Em] I do [C] say, with the witch of the west [D] fair land.
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