[Pretty Polly] Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight; Miss Leslie W. Hopkinson, Cambridge, Mass; 1904
[Pretty Polly (title confirmed by Barry in 1929) is taken from Barry's Traditional Ballads in New England I, published in JOAFL 1905. The date is certainly much older, going back three generation which is at least 60 years. The brier- nettle reference is found in 'The False Knight Outwitted'- Version F, from Roxburghe Ballads, III, 449 in the catalogue of the British Museum, "London? 1710?"
The names Polly, Colvin, Collean, Collenendee, Goldan, Goldin, are generic slang words for the Irish word, cailin, meaning "girl" "girlfriend" or "lover." (Barry 1909)
R. Matteson 2011, 2014]
Traditional Ballads in New England I
by Phillips Barry
The Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 18, No. 69 (Apr. - Jun., 1905), pp. 123-138
IV. LADY ISABEL AND THE ELF-KNIGHT
A. [Pretty Polly] Contributed by L. W. H., Cambridge, Mass., in whose family it has been traditional for three generations. Sung by Miss Leslie W. Hopkinson, Cambridge, Mass., May 31, 1904; from family tradition.
1. Pretty Polly, she mounted her milk-white steed,
And he the ambling gray,
And they came to the broad water side,
Full an hour before it was day, day, day,
Full an hour before it was day.
2. "Now light you down, Pretty Polly," he said,
"Now light you down," said he,
"For six Pretty Pollies have I drownded here,
And the seventh you shall be."
3. "Take off your clothes, so costly, so fine,
And eke your velvet shoon,
For I do think your clothing is too good,
For to lie in a watery tomb."
4. "Won't you stoop down to pick that brier,
That grows so near the brim?
For I am afraid it will tangle my hair,
And rumple my lily-white skin."
5. So he stooped down to pick that brier,
That grew so near the brim,
And with all the might that the Pretty Polly had,
She did tumble the false knight in.
6. "Lie there, lie there false knight," she said,
"Lie there all in my room,
For I do not think your clothing is too good,
For to lie in a watery tomb!"
7. Pretty Polly, she mounted her milk-white steed,
And led the ambling gray,
And she came to her father's stable door,
Full an hour before it was day.
8. Then up and spoke her pretty parrot,
And unto her did say,
"Oh, where have you been, my Pretty Polly,
So long before it was day?"
9. "Oh, hold your tongue, you prattling bird,
And tell no tales of me,
And you shall have a cage of the finest beaten gold,
That shall hang on the front willow-tree!"
10 Then up and spoke her father dear,
And unto the bird did say,
"Oh, what makes you talk, my pretty parrot,
So long before it is day?"
11. "The old cat came to my cage door,
And fain would have eaten me,
And I was a-calling to Pretty Polly,
To drive the old cat away."