A holiday, a holiday, in the first month of the year.
Lord Sonol's wife came into town some preachin' for to hear.
And when the meeting it was done, she cast her eyes about,
And there she saw little Greckle Wolfsmoon walkin' in the crowd..

"Come home with me, little Greckle Wolfsmoon,
Come home with me tonight.,
Come home with me, little Greckle Wolfsmoon,
And sleep with me till light."

"I won't go home,
I can't go home,
To bed with you tonight
For I see from the rings on yer fingers,
That yer Lord Sonol's wife."

"I am Lord Sonol's wife, but he is not at home.
He is out in the far cornfield bringin' the yearlings home."
And a servant who was standing by and hearin' what was said
Swore Lord Sonol'd hear the news before the sun had set.

In his hurry to carry the news
He bent his breast and ran,
And when he came to the far corn stream,
He took off his shoes and swam. Hey.

Well, Greckle he layed down to have a little sleep,
And he awoke to find Lord Sonol standin' at his feet
Sayin' "How do ya like my feather bed?
How do ya like my sheets?
How dooo ya like my lady who lies in yer arms asleep?"

"It's well I like yer feather bed,
And it's well I like your sheets,
But it's best of all I like
The lady who lies in my arms asleep."

"Get up, get up," Lord Sonol cried.
"Get up as quick as ya can,
For never have it said on this island
That I slew a nekkid man."

"I won't get up,
I can't get up,
Get up to save me life,
For you have two beaten swords
And I've but a eatin' knife."

"It's true I have two beaten swords
And they cost me deep in purse,
But you can have the better of them
And I will take the worse.

"You can strike the very first blow
And strike it like a man.
Then I will strike the very next blow
And kill you if I can."

Well Greckle struck the very first blow
And hit Lord Sonol's sword.
Lord Sonol struck the very next blow,
And Greckle struck no more."

And then Lord Sonol took his wife and sat her on his knee
Sayin', "Who do ya like the best of us, Greckle Wolfmsoon or me?"
And up spoke Lord Sonol's wife, never known to speak so free.
"I'd rather have a kiss from dead Greckle's lips than you and yer finery."

"Well, Lord Sonol lost his temper and
Began to shout and baw.
He stabbed his poor wife through the heart
And pinned her to the wall."

"A grave, a grave," the good lord cried,
"To put these lovers in.
But bury my wife at the top
For she's of noble kin."