The Ancient Ballads

Braes of Yarrow

Braes of Yarrow

by John Fitzsimmons | The American Folk Experience

(Child Ballad #14)

‘I dreamed a dreary dream this night,
That fills my heart wi sorrow;
I dreamed I was pouing the heather green
Upon the braes of Yarrow.

‘O true-love mine, stay still and dine,
As ye ha done before, O;’
‘O I’ll be home by hours nine,
From the braes of Yarrow.’

I dreamed a dreary dream this night,
That fills my heart wi sorrow;
I dreamed my love came headless hame,
Fromthe braes of Yarrow!

‘O true-love mine, stay still and dine,
As ye ha done before, O;’
‘O I’ll be home by hours nine,
From the braes of Yarrow.’

‘O are ye going to hawke‘ she says, 
‘As ye ha done before, O?
Or are ye going to wield your brand,
Upon the braes of Yarrow?’

‘O I am not going to hawke,’ he says,
‘As I have done before, O,
But for to meet your brother Jhon,
Upon the braes of Yarrow,

As he went down yon dowy den,
Sorrow went him before, O;
Nine well-built  men lay waiting him,
Upon the braes of Yarrow.

‘I have your sister to my wife,
‘Ye’ think me an unmeet  marrow;
But yet one foot will I never flee
Now frae the braes of Yarrow.’

‘Than’ four he killd and five did wound,
That was an unmeet marrow!
‘And he had weel nigh wan the day
Upon the braes of Yarrow.’

‘Bot’ a cowardly ‘loon‘ came him behind, (10)
Our Lady lend him sorrow!
And wi a rappier pierced his heart,
And laid him low on Yarrow.

‘Now Douglas’ to his sister’s gane,
Wi meikle dule and sorrow:
‘Gae to your luve, sister,’ he says,
‘He’s sleeping sound on Yarrow.’

As she went down yon dowy den,
Sorrow went her before, O;
She saw her true-love lying slain
Upon the braes of Yarrow.

‘She swoond thrice upon his breist
That was her dearest marrow;
Said, Ever alace and wae the day
Thou wentst frae me to Yarrow!’

She kist his mouth, she kaimed his hair,
As she had done before, O ;
She ‘wiped’ the blood that trickled doun
Upon the braes of Yarrow.

Her hair it was three quarters lang, 
It hang baith side and yellow;
She tied it round ‘Her’ white hause-bane,
‘And tint her life on Yarrow.’

 

If you have any more information to share about this song or helpful links, please post as a comment. Thanks for stopping by the site! ~John Fitz

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I am indebted to the many friends who share my love of traditional songs and to the many scholars whose works are too many to include here. I am also incredibly grateful to the collector’s curators and collators of Wikipedia, Mudcat.org, MainlyNorfolk.info, and TheContemplator.com for their wise, thorough and informative contributions to the study of folk music. 

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The Dowie Dens o Yarrow (1860), by Joseph Noel Paton

"The Dowie Dens o Yarrow", also known as "The Braes of Yarrow" or simply "Yarrow", is a Scottish border ballad (Roud 13, Child 214). It has many variants (Child collected at least 19) and it has been printed as a broadside, as well as published in song collections. It is considered to be a folk standard, and many different singers have performed and recorded it.

Synopsis

The song describes an unequal conflict between a group of men and one man, concerning a lady. This takes place in the vicinity of Yarrow. The one man succeeds in overcoming nearly all his opponents but is finally defeated by (usually) the last one of them.

In some versions, the lady (who is not usually named) rejects a number (often nine) wealthy suitors, in preference for a servant or ploughman. The nine make a pact to kill the other man and they ambush him in the "Dens of Yarrow".

There lived a lady in the West,
I neer could find her marrow;
She was courted by nine gentlemen
And a ploughboy-lad in Yarrow.
These nine sat drinking at the wine,
Sat drinking wine in Yarrow;
They made a vow among themselves
To fight for her in Yarrow.[1]

In some versions it is unclear who the nine (or other number of men) are; in others, they are brothers or are men sent by the lady's father.[2] In the ensuing fight, eight of the attackers are generally killed or wounded, but the ninth (often identified as the lady's brother, John or Douglas) fatally wounds the victim of the plot, usually by running him through with a sword and often by a cowardly blow, delivered from behind.

Four he hurt, an five he slew,
Till down it fell himsell O;
There stood a fause lord him behin,
Who thrust his body thorrow.[3]

The lady may see the events in a dream, either before or after they take place and usually has some sort of dialogue with her father about the merits of the man who has been ambushed and killed.

"O hold your tongue, my daughter dear,
An tak it not in sorrow;
I’ll wed you wi as good a lord
As you’ve lost this day in Yarrow."
"O haud your tongue, my father dear,
An wed your sons wi sorrow;
For a fairer flower neer sprang in May nor June
Nor I’ve lost this day in Yarrow."[4]

Some versions of the song end with the lady grieving: in others she dies of grief.[5]

Commentary

Dowie is Scots and Northumbrian English for sad, dismal, dull or dispirited ,[6][7] den Scots and Northumbrian for a narrow wooded valley.[8][7]

The ballad has some similarities with the folk song "Bruton Town" (or "The Bramble Briar"). This song contains a similar murderous plot, usually by a group of brothers, and directed against a servant who has fallen in love with their sister. It also includes the motif, present in some versions of "The Dowie Dens o Yarrow", of the woman dreaming of her murdered lover before discovering the truth of the plot. However, the rhythmical structure of the two songs is quite different and there is no obvious borrowing of phraseology between them.[9]

Historical background

The song is closely associated with the geographical area of the valley of the Yarrow Water that extends through the Scottish borders towards Selkirk. Almost all versions refer to this location, perhaps because the rhyming scheme for multiple verses, in most versions, relies on words which more or less rhyme with "Yarrow": "marrow", "morrow", "sorrow", "thorough", "narrow", "arrow" and "yellow" for example.

The song is believed to be based on an actual incident. The hero of the ballad was a knight of great bravery, popularly believed to be John Scott, sixth son of the Laird of Harden. According to history, he met a treacherous and untimely death in Ettrick Forest at the hands of his kin, the Scotts of Gilmanscleugh in the seventeenth century.[10] However, recent scholars are sceptical about this story as the origin of the song.[11]

Cultural relationships

Standard references

Broadsides

There are several broadside versions:

  • National Library of Scotland, reference RB.m.143(120)[13]

Textual variants

There are numerous versions of the ballad. Child recorded at least 19, the earliest of which was taken from Walter Scott's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (1803).[14] However, the song is much older: William Hamilton of Bangour wrote a poem called "The Braes of Yarrow" which has some basis in the ballad. It appears in a collection of his poems first published in Edinburgh in 1724.[citation needed] It is said to be "written in imitation of an old Scottish ballad on a similar subject".[15][16] There are also American versions which go under the corrupted title of "Derry Dens of Arrow."[17] The ballad has also been linked to the American folk song "The Wayfaring Stranger," but there is little solid evidence for any relationship between them.

Non-English variants

Child points out the similarity with "Herr Helmer", a Scandinavian ballad (TSB D 78; SMB 82; DgF 415; NMB 84). In this, Helmer marries a woman whose family are in a state of feud with him because of the unavenged killing of her uncle. Helmer meets his seven brothers-in-law and a fight ensues. He kills six, but spares the seventh who treacherously kills him.[18]


Recordings

Album/Single Performer Year Variant Notes
The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, Volume III Ewan MacColl & A. L. Lloyd 1956 MacColl's version is taken from the singing of his father
Carolyn Hester Carolyn Hester 1961
Strings and Things The Corries 1970
Stargazer Shelagh McDonald 1971
Moonshine (Bert Jansch album) Bert Jansch 1973
As I Went Over Blackwater Mick Hanly 1980
Open the Door (Pentangle album) pentangle 1985 The Voice of the People: O'er His Grave the Grass Grew Green John Macdonald 1988
The Voice of the People: It Fell Upon a Bonny Summer's Day Willie Scott 1988
And So It Goes Steve Tilston 1995
Outlaws and Dreamers Dick Gaughan 2001 Variant of Child 214S
The Mountain Announces Scatter 2006
Fairest Floo'er Karine Polwart 2007
The Voice of the People: Good People Take Warning Mary Anne Stewart 2012
Fall Away Blues Red Tail Ring 2016 "Yarrow"
The Back Roads The Back Roads 2016 "Yarrow"

Musical variants

The following is the tune as sung by Ewan MacColl:

Scottish composer Hamish MacCunn composed an orchestral ballad of the same title.


References

  1. ^ Child version 214Q
  2. ^ Child version 214J
  3. ^ Child version 214I
  4. ^ Child version 214B
  5. ^ Child version 214D
  6. ^ Robinson, Mairi (1985). The Concise Scots Dictionary. Aberdeen: Aberdeen University Press. p. 158. ISBN 0-08-028492-2.
  7. ^ a b Richard Oliver Heslop Northumberland Words. London: for the English Dialect Society (Publications; vol. 28) by Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., 1892
  8. ^ Robinson, Mairi (1985). The Concise Scots Dictionary. Aberdeen: Aberdeen University Press. p. 141. ISBN 0-08-028492-2.
  9. ^ "The Bramble Briar" published in R. Vaughan Williams & A. L. Lloyd: The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs, Penguin Books, 1959
  10. ^ Scott, Sir Walter. "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border". www.humanitiesweb.org. Vol. II. Retrieved 12 July 2007.
  11. ^ A. L. Lloyd: Folk Song in England, Paladin, 1975. p. 129
  12. ^ Gordon Hall Gerould: Old English and Medieval Literature, Ayer Publishing, 1970. ISBN 0-8369-5312-6. p360
  13. ^ National Library of Scotland
  14. ^ Francis James Child: The English and Scottish Popular Ballads; Vol. IV, p. 160
  15. ^ Thomas Percy: Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: Consisting of Ballads, Songs, and Other Pieces of Our Earlier Poets, Edinburgh: James Nichol, 1858; p. 294
  16. ^ William Hamilton: The Poems and Songs of William Hamilton of Bangour, Edinburgh, 1850
  17. ^ "Derry Dens of Arrow". Bluegrass Messengers.
  18. ^ Child p.164

    Source: Mainly Norfolk

    The Dowie Dens of Yarrow

    Roud 13 ; Child 214 ; G/D 2:215 ; Ballad Index C214 ; trad.]

    The Border Ballad The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow was in the repertoire of many traditional and revival singers:

    Jimmy McBeath sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow on November 14, 1953 in a recording by Alan Lomax that was released in 2002 on his Rounder Records anthology Tramps and Hawkers.

    Ewan MacColl sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow in 1956 on his and A.L. Lloyd’s Riverside anthology The English and Scottish Popular Ballads (The Child Ballads) Volume III. This and 28 other ballads from this series were reissued in 2009 on MacColl’s Topic CD Ballads: Murder·Intrigue·Love·Discord. Kenneth S. Goldstein commented in the album’s booklet:

    Child printed nineteen texts of this beautiful Scottish tragic ballad, the oldest dating from the 18th century. Sir Walter Scott, who first published it in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (1803), believed that the ballad referred to a duel fought at the beginning of the 17th century between John Scott of Tushielaw and Walter Scott of Thirlestane in which the latter was slain. Child pointed out inaccuracies in this theory but tended to give credence to the possibility that the ballad did refer to an actual occurrence in Scott family history that was not too far removed from that of the ballad tale.

    In a recent article, Norman Cazden discussed various social and historical implications of this ballad (and its relationship to Child 215, Rare Willie Drowned in Yarrow), as well as deriding Scott’s theories as to its origin.

    The ballad still exists in tradition in Scotland. It has been reported rarely in America, a fine text having been collected in New York State.

    Davie Stewart sang The Dowie Dens of Yarrow in a recording by Hamish Henderson in 1954/55 or 1962 that was released in 1978 on his eponymous Topic LPDavie Stewart. Another recording by Alan Lomax in London in 1957 was included in 2002 on Stewart’s Rounder Records CD Go On, Sing Another Song. One of these two versions was also included on the anthology The Child Ballads 2 (The Folk Songs of Britain Volume 5; Caedmon 1961; Topic 1968).

    Belle Stewart sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow on the 1965 Topic record The Stewarts of Blair. This track was included in 1966 on the Topic Sampler No 5, A Prospect of Scotland.

    Gordeanna McCulloch sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow in 1965 on the Topic album New Voices from Scotland. This track was included in 1997 on the Fellside CD reissue of her Topic album Sheath and Knife. and in 2009 on Topic 70th anniversary anthology Three Score and Ten.

    Isla Cameron sang Yarrow in 1966 on her eponymous Transatlantic album Isla Cameron.

    Willie Scott sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow on November 3, 1967 in a recording by Bill Leader that was released on his 1968 Topic record The Shepherd’s Song. This track was included in 1998 on the Topic anthology It Fell on a Day, a Bonny Summer Day (The Voice of the People Series Volume 17).

    Shelagh McDonald sang Dowie Dens of Yarrow in 1971 on her second and last album, Stargazer.

    John MacDonald sang The Dewie Dens o’ Yarrow in November 1974 in a recording by Tony Engle and Tony Russell that was released on his 1975 Topic recordThe Singing Molecatcher of Morayshire. This track was included in 1998 on the Topic anthology O’er His Grave the Grass Grew Green (The Voice of the People Series Volume 3).

    Bob Davenport and The Rakes sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow in 1977 on their Topic LP 1977. He learned this song from the singing of Davie Stewart.

    Paul and Linda Adams sang The Dowie Dens of Yarrow in 1978 on their Fellside album Among the Old Familiar Mountains.

    Jane Turriff of Mintlaw, Aberdeenshire, sang Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow in a 1979 recording made by Peter Cooke on her 1996 Springthyme album Singing Is Ma Life. This track was also included in 2000 on the EFDSS anthology Root & Branch 2: Everybody Swings. The original album’s notes commented:

    The Yarrow valley runs from the Border hills south of Edinburgh to join the river Tweed near Selkirk. Although this is a genuine Border Ballad, James Duncan calls it “unquestionably the most widely known of our old ballads in the North East.” Greig-Duncan has eleven texts, none with Jane’s distinctive opening verse. There is much similarity, however, when it comes to the combat verses. It is not clear in Jane’s version who the murderer is, but she has her own ideas: Jane: He wis goin for them aa, bit een o them came at him fae the back. It must have been his brither-in-law.

    On one occasion, Jane sang this song to a different melody, unusual for a traditional singer and she sometimes begins with two extra verses which do help clarify the motive. These lines also appear as verses two and three in Agnes Lyle of Kilbarchan’s version, noted by William Motherwell in 1825 (Child C). Tennies Bank probably refers the Tinnis Burn near Newcastleton in the Scottish borders.

    Alison McMorland and Peta Webb sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow in 1980 on their Topic LP Alison McMorland & Peta Webb.

    Gary and Vera Aspey sang The Dowie Dens of Yarrow, “a Scottish traditional song which happens to be a great favourite of ours”, in 1979 on their Topic albumSeeing Double.

    Iain MacGillivray sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow in 1986 on his Fellside album Rolling Home.

    Heather Heywood sang The Dowie Dens of Yarrow in 1993 on her Greentrax CD By Yon Castle Wa’.

    Steve Tilston sang The Dowie Dens of Yarrow on his 1995 album And So It Goes….

    Elspeth Cowie sang Dowie Dens of Yarrow in 1998 on Chantan’s Culburnie CD Primary Colours.

    Janet Russell sang Dowie Dens of Yarrow in 1998 on the Fellside CD Fyre and Sworde: Songs of the Border Reivers. The album’s sleeve notes commented:

    Arguably one of the finest of the Border Ballads. In simple terms the theme is Romeo and Juliet. This fits conveniently with the reiving theme of two families is dispute. It also deals with the theme of the girl courting beneath her station in life. Whatever, the young man is clearly regarded as unsuitable by the girl’s family. As with many of the songs with no clear historical connection attempts have been made to give the song a real-life background. A version of the song collected from one William Walsh, a Peebleshire cottar and poet has as its opening line, “At Dryhope lived a lady fair”. This has led to the theory that the lady was the daughter of Scott of Dryhope, a notorious Reiver. Whether or not it has an historical basis becomes less significant against the overwhelming tragedy of the song. Janet’s text, given to her by Sandra Kerr, has a place name “Thurrow” which we have not been able to locate. The text was collected in the Borders and so it has probably been altered by the oral process from Yarrow. The text has several ritual, magical and folklore allusions: the dream, the long yellow hair being wrapped three times around the body, etc. Janet’s stunning delivery of the song serves to illustrate why these songs are often called the “Big Ballads”.

    Willie Beattie of Caulside, Dumfriesshire, sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow to Mike Yates in 2000. This recording was included in 2001 on the Musical Traditions anthology of song and music from the Mike Yates Collection, Up in the North and Down in the South, and in 2003 on his Kyloe anthology of ballads, songs and tune from the Scottish Borders, Borderers. Yates commented in the former album’s booklet:

    One of the best-known of the ‘Border ballads’, although very few sets have been collected outside of Scotland itself. While the ballad is set in a known location, the Yarrow Valley—a few miles to the west of Selkirk, it is not known if it is based on an actual historic event. Sir Walter Scott believed that it referred to a duel fought between John Scott of Tushielaw and his brother-in-law Walter Scott of Thirlestane, where the latter was slain; but others have doubted this, citing the ballad’s similarity to the Scandinavian Herr Helmer. In this ballad Helmer has married a lady whose family are at feud with him for the unatoned slaughter of her uncle; he meets her seven brothers, who will hear of no satisfaction; there is a fight; Helmer kills six, but spares the seventh, who treacherously kills him.

    The ballad has been sung for a long time in Liddesdale and Eskdale, and Frank Kidson noted a set from a Mrs Calvert of Gilnockie—he same Gilnockie that is close to Willie Beattie’s home and which is mentioned in the ballad of Johnny Armstrong. Mrs Calvert was the granddaughter of Tibbie Shiel, who had previously given songs to Sir Walter Scott and James Hogg, the ‘Etterick Shepherd’. Willie learnt his version of the ballad from his one-time neighbour, the well-known shepherd and singer Willie Scott, who can be heard singing it on [It Fell on a Day, a Bonny Summer Day (The Voice of the People Series Volume 17)]. Davie Stewart’s version is on [The Child Ballads 2 (The Folk Songs of Britain Volume 5; Caedmon 1961; Topic 1968)], and an Irish set, sung by Brigid Murphy, of Forkhill, Co Armagh, is included on the European Ethnic cassette Early Ballads in Ireland (no issue number), edited by Hugh Shields and Tom Munnelly.

    Dick Gaughan sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow on his 2001 Greentrax CD Outlaws and Dreamers; this recording was also included in 2006 on his anthology The Definitive Collection.

    Wiliam Williamson of Ladybank, Fife (the son of Duncan Williamson) sang The Dowie Dens of Yarrow to Mike Yates on September 3, 2001. This recording was included in the following year on Yates’ Kyloe anthology of songs, stories and ballads from Scottish Travellers, Travellers’ Tales Volume 1.

    Sara Grey sang Derry Dens of Arrow in 2005 on her Fellside CD A Long Way from Home.

    Tom Spiers sang The Dowie Dens o Yarrow on Shepheard, Spiers & Watson’s Springthyme 2005 CD They Smiled As We Cam In. He commented in the album’s booklet:

    This was one of the first ballads I learnt back in the 1960s and the text is pretty close to the version in Norman Buchan’s 101 Scottish Songs which was the most accessible source of traditional song in those days. The haunting tune is from the singing of Jessie MacDonald and was collected by Peter Hall on one of his field recording expeditions.

    Karine Polwart sang Dowie Dens of Yarrow in 2007 on her CD Fairest Floo’er (and the album title is a phrase from this song). This track was also included in 2013 on her Borealis anthology Threshold. A live recording from Cambridge Folk Festival 2008 was included on her festival EP A Wee Bit Extra.

    Drew Wright sang The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow in 2011 on the B-Side of the Drag City single with Alastair Roberts and Karine Polwart, Captain Wedderburn’s Courtship.

    Andy Turner heard Dowie Dens of Yarrow for the first time in 1977 on Bob Davenports album mentioned above. He sang it as the January 28, 2017 entry of his project A Folk Song a Week.

    Lyrics

    Willie Scott sings The Dowie Dens o’ Yarrow Janet Russell sings The Dowie Dens of Yarrow
    There lived a lady in the north,
    You could scarely find her marrow,
    She was courted by nine noblemen
    And her ploughman boy o’ Yarrow.
    In Thurrow town there lived a maid,
    Ye scarce could find her marrow,
    And she’s forsook nine noblemen
    For a ploughboy lad frae Yarrow.
    Her faither he got word o’ that
    And he’s bred a’ her sorrow;
    He sent him forth to fight wi’ nine
    On the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.
    She’s washed his face and she’s kaimed his hair
    As she’s aft done before-O,
    And she’s made him look a knight sae fine
    To fecht for her on Yarrow.
    “Stay here, stay here, my bonnie lad
    And bide wi’ me the morrow,
    For my cruel brothers will ye betray
    On the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.”
    As he came ower yon high, high hills
    And doon yon path sae narrow,
    There he spied nine noblemen
    For to fight with him on Yarrow.
    As he gaed up by Tennies Hill
    And doon the braes o’ Yarrow,
    ‘T was there in a den were nine armed men
    Come to fecht wi’ him on Yarrow.
    “Did ye come here tae drink the wine?
    Did ye come here tae borrow?
    Or did ye come tae wield yer brand
    On the dowie dens o’ Yarrow?”
    “I am not come tae drink the wine
    Nor yet to beg or borrow.
    But I am come tae wield my brand
    On the dowie dens o’ Yarrow!”
    “If I see you all, you are nine men,
    That’s an unfair marrow.
    But I will fecht while last my breath
    On the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.”
    There was three he slew and three withdrew,
    And three lay deadly wounded,
    Till her brother John stepped in behind+
    And pierced his body through.”
    And three he slew and three they flew
    And three he’s wounded sairly,
    Till her brither John stood up behind
    And ran his body thorough.
    “Go home, go home, you false young man,
    And tell your sister sorrow,
    That her true-love John lies dead and gone
    In the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.”
    As he gaed ower yon high, high hills
    And doon yon path sae narrow,
    There he spied his sister dear
    She was coming fast for Yarrow.”
    “ Oh, brother dear, I’ve dreamt a dream
    And I hope it will not prove sorrow.
    I dreamt that your were spilling blood
    In the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.”
    “O mither, I hae dream’d a dream,
    A dream o’ dule and sorrow.
    I dream’d that I pu’d heather bells
    On the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.”
    “Oh, sister dear, I’ll read your dream
    And I’m sure it will prove sorrow.
    Your true-love John lies dead and gone
    And a bloody corpse on Yarrow.”
    “O dochter I hae read your dream,
    I doubt it will prove sorrow.
    For your ain true love is pale and wan
    On the dowie dens o’ Yarrow.”
    As she gaed up yon high high hill
    And doon the houms o’ Yarrow,
    ‘T was there she saw her ain true love
    Lying pale and wan on Yarrow.
    She’s washed him in a clear well-strand,
    She’s dried him wi’ the hollan.
    And aye she sighed, alas she cried,
    “For my love I had him chosen.”
    Now this fair maid’s hair was three-quarters long
    And the colour of it was yellow.
    She tied it roond his middle small,
    As she’s carried him hame tae Yarrow.
    Her hair it being three quarters lang,
    The colour it being yellow.
    She’s tied it roond his middle sae small
    And she’s bore him doon tae Yarrow.
    “Oh, daughter dear, dry up your tear
    And dwell no more in sorrow,
    For I’ll wed you to far higher degree
    Than your ploughman boy o’ Yarrow.”
    “O hold your tongue, my daughter dear
    And talk no more of sorrow,
    I’ll wed you soon on a better match
    Than the ploughboy lad frae Yarrow.”
    “Oh, father dear, you have seven sons,
    You can wed them all tomorrow.
    But a fairer floo’er there never bloomed
    Than my ploughman boy o’ Yarrow.”
    “O faither, ye hae siven sons,
    Ye may wed them a’ tomorrow.
    Ye may wed your sons, but ye’ll ne’er wed
    The bonny lass of Thurrow.”

    Jane Turriff sings The Dowie Dens o Yarrow

    “You took my sister to be your wife
    And you thought not her marrow;
    You rook her frae her father’s side,
    When she was a rose on Yarrow.”

    “I took your sister to be my wife
    And I made her my marrow;
    I took her frae her father’s side
    And she’s still the rose o Yarrow.”

    He’s gaen tae his lady gan,
    As he had done before o,
    Sayin, “Madam I maun keep a tryst
    On the dowie dens o Yarrow.”

    “O bide at hame ma lord,” she said,
    “O bide at hame my marrow,
    For my three brothers, they will slay thee,
    In the dowie dens o Yarrow.”

    “Hold yer tongue, ma lady dear
    What’s aa this strife and sorrow? [grief and
    For I’ll come back to thee again,
    In the dowie dens o Yarrow.”

    She kissed his cheeks, she kissed his hair,
    As she had done before o
    And gied him a brand doon by his side
    An he’s awa tae Yarrow.

    So he’s gan up yon Tennies Bank
    A wite he gaed wi sorrow [i.e. I know he gaed
    An there he met nine armed men [spied nine
    In the dowie dens o Yarrow.

    “O come ye here tae howk or hound, [i.e. hawk
    Or drink the wine sae clear o,
    Or come ye here tae pairt yer land
    On the dowie dens o Yarrow?”

    “I come not here tae howk or hound,
    Or drink the wine sae clear o,
    Nor come I here tae pairt ma land,
    But I’ll fight wi you in Yarrow.”

    So four he’s hurt an five he’s slain
    In the bloody dens o Yarrow,
    Till a cowardly man cam him behind
    An he’s pierced his body through o.

    “Oh gae hame, gae hame, ma brither John,
    Whit’s aa this grief and sorrow? [dule and
    Gae hame an tell ma lady dear
    That I sleep sound in Yarrow.”

    So he’s gane up yon high, high hill
    As he had done before o
    An there he met his sister dear,
    She wis comin fast tae Yarrow.

    “Oh I dreamt a dreary dream yestreen,
    God keep us aa fae sorrow!
    I dreamt I pulled the birk sae green,
    (or: I dreamt that I wis pu’in heather bells)
    On the dowie dens o Yarrow.”

    “O sister I will read yer dream
    And oh it has come sorrow:
    Your true love he lies dead an gone,
    He was killed, was killed in Yarrow.”

    Acknowledgements

    Janet Russell’s verses were transcribed by Roberto in the the Mudcat Café thread Lyr Add: Dowie Dens of Yarrow (from Janet Russell).

    Performances, Workshops, Resources & Recordings

    The American Folk Experience is dedicated to collecting and curating the most enduring songs from our musical heritage.  Every performance and workshop is a celebration and exploration of the timeless songs and stories that have shaped and formed the musical history of America. John Fitzsimmons has been singing and performing these gems of the past for the past forty years, and he brings a folksy warmth, humor and massive repertoire of songs to any occasion. 

    Festivals & Celebrations Coffeehouses School Assemblies Library Presentations Songwriting Workshops Artist in Residence House Concerts Pub Singing Irish & Celtic Performances Poetry Readings Campfires Music Lessons Senior Centers Voiceovers & Recording

    “Beneath the friendly charisma is the heart of a purist gently leading us from the songs of our lives to the timeless traditional songs he knows so well…”

     

    Globe Magazine

    Join Fitz at The Colonial Inn

    “The Nobel Laureate of New England Pub Music…”

    Scott Alaric

    Adventures in the Modern Folk Underground

    On the Green, in Concord, MA Every Thursday Night for over thirty years…

    “A Song Singing, Word Slinging, Story Swapping, Ballad Mongering, Folksinger, Teacher, & Poet…”

    Theo Rogue

    Songcatcher Rag

    Fitz’s Recordings

    & Writings

    Songs, poems, essays, reflections and ramblings of a folksinger, traveler, teacher, poet and thinker…

    Download for free from the iTunes Bookstore

    “A Master of Folk…”

    The Boston Globe

    Fitz’s now classic recording of original songs and poetry…

    Download from the iTunes Music Store

    “A Masterful weaver of song whose deep, resonant voice rivals the best of his genre…”

    Spirit of Change Magazine

    “2003: Best Children’s Music Recording of the Year…”

    Boston Parent's Paper

    Fitz & The Salty Dawgs Amazing music, good times and good friends…

    Listen here

    TheCraftedWord.org

    Writing help

    when you need it…

    “When the eyes rest on the soul…that’s Fitzy…”

    Lenny Megliola

    WEEI Radio

    Hallows Lake

    Foreward Thanks for taking a look at this "work in progress. It originally started out as an experimental one-man play. Maybe it still will be. Later I thought of making it into a novel, but it's hard to see it happening as there is (intentionally) no real plot, and...

    A Hard Sell

         As a teacher, I am tired of the word blog, probably because the word “blogging” is incredibly limiting and myopic, especially for someone whose teaching is centered around an online curriculum with blogs front and center on my academic table. I sat through a...

    Ready. Set. Go.

    Who forgets to rinse his hair? Me, I guess, for that was the start of my day. I smelled something like coconut oil on my way to school, and then I realized, dang, my hair is still pretty wet. Wet with hair conditioner. And then I get sot school all coconutty smelling...

    Dealing with Ether

    Trying to only see what is in front of me my eyes are continually drawn away from this page and the work left to be done— my labored words etched and scratched away like fleeting mosaics in dry sand. I need a windowless cell to work the alchemy that shapes the...

    The Nagging Thing

    Not many more nights like this, warm enough to sit outside on the back porch. The kids and Denise long asleep. Usually, during the school year, this is my "time" to catch up on schoolwork--grading, posting the assignments for the week and playing the general catchup...

    Ghetto of Your Eye

    I wrote this song back in the winter of 1989, in the dining car of a steam driven train, somewhere along the Trans-Siberian railway, after meeting a group of Russian soldiers fresh from battle in Afghanistan—that poor country that has been a battleground for way too long.

    We stare together hours the snow whipped Russian plain—
    rolling in the ghetto of your eye.
    We share a quart of vodka
    and some cold meat on the train—
    you know too much to even wonder why;
    I see it in the ghetto of your eye.

    If you don’t stand, you cower…

         Maybe it is time to be less forgiving. I have rarely agreed with our president, but I held on to the shreds of truth that shore up his arguments: we can’t welcome every immigrant who makes it to our border; we cannot bow to the audacity of corrupt governments in...

    Superman

    There’s a little blonde boy in a superman cape
    Racing around the back yard;
    Sayin’, “Daddy don’t you know I can fly to the moon;
    I’m gonna bring you back some stars.
    And after that I’m gonna save the world”
    Cause I’m superman today.”
    I scoop that boy right into my arms,
    And this is what I say:

    You don’t need a cape to be a hero
    You’ve got all the special powers that you need
    Your smile’s enough to save the world from evil
    And you’ll always be superman to me

    The Inn

            I realized that in all my years of writing and journal keeping, I seldom, if ever, write about "The Inn," which is and has been, the biggest and most enduring constant in my life for the past thirty plus years. Every Thursday night I load up my car, truck, bus...

    Shane

    It’s been too long feeling sorry for myself.
    It’s been too long with my life up on the shelf.
    Sometimes wish that I was Shane—
    shoot Jack Palance, and disappear again;
    don’t have no one
    don’t want no one
    don’t miss no one:
    living lonely with a saddle and a gun.

    Redefining Literacy

     My life is the poem I could have writ, But I could not both live and utter it ~Henry David Thoreau    The common man goes to an orchard to taste the fruit. The rich man man learns how to plant his own orchard. The poet, however,  grows an even better fruit and gives...

    Chores

    The day sometimes slip away from me, a huge pine half-bucked in the backyard, the kids old tree fort cut into slabs, a ton of coal waiting to be moved in a train of buckets to the bin. Sipping cold water on the back deck, sharpening the dulled teeth of a worn...

    The Threshing

    I trace her charging through the cornfield shaking the timbers of the ready crop startling up the blackbirds, and surprisingly, a jay. It’s the jay who startles me—
who with two quick pulls wrests itself from the transient green, screaming back from its familiar scrub...

    Busy…

    The start of the school year, and I have literally spent every free moment working on what is ostensibly pretty cool stuff, methinks...but it is work in every sense of the word, so I do miss those long summer mornings when  could literally write to my heart and heads...

    Goathouse

    In reaching for the scythe I’m reminded of the whetstone and the few quick strokes by which it was tested— the hardness of hot August; the burning of ticks off dog backs. It’s winter now in this garage made barn, and the animals seem only curious that I’d be here so...

    Joshua Sawyer Podcast

    Doing What Needs To Be Done

    The rain falls;The grass grows:Nothing is done.Nothing is left undone~Buddha        Sometimes you just do what you got to do, and that never changes from the first time you take out the trash as a kid until the time in life where you are taking care of little chores...

    A Redemptive Moment

    I see the clock ticking towards 7:00. The kids are deep in their weekday world of homework, juggling soccer balls around the house, watching TV, but I am in my “got to rally” and get to the inn mode that happens very Thursday. Tonight I am tired. I’ll admit it, but...

    The Most Unoriginal Teacher

    Yes, that's me. I am a fraudster, thief, and plagiarizer of the worst magnitude. I copy the very styles of classic poets; I steal from Noble Laureate novelists, and I copy words from every and any source I can. And even worse, I steal from myself. If you even dare to...

    How do I know

    what I know? The sharp angles of this simple cottage perfected in every board sawn, shingle split and beam hewn into place goes together placed, splined, slid together, bound more by intuition than knowing.

    Life Outside the Curriculum

    “My teachers could have written with Jesse James for all time they stole from us...” ~Richard Brautigan, “Trout Fishing in America”        My classroom is often a bit of a mess—a mass of sprawled bodies scattered around like casualties of battle, ensconced in various...

    The Value of a Classic

    “Classic' - a book which people praise and don't read.” ~Mark Twain A note to my 8th grade class:      All of you are supposedly reading a classic book, but what Twain says is true: few of us go thirsty to the well and willingly read the greatest works of literature...

    The Litter in Concord

    I have been following a Facebook thread about the movement in my beloved hometown of Concord to ban plastic water bottles, plastic bags and styrofoam cups. I am trying to discern whether or not my initial responses are pure and true and not simply reactionary and...

    I have been here before

    Trying to pull a final day Back into the night, execute Some stay of time, Some way to wrap The fabric of Summer Around the balky, frame of Fall, sloughing My skin, unable to stop This reptilian ecdysis— This hideous morphing Into respectability. My students, tame As...

    Yesterday did not become a poem

    Nothing became something else; No thoughts filled my head With wonder or wisdom. Listless sky. Jumbled frames. Fleeting images: Chattering squirrels, Distant rumbling Of rush hour traffic. Today I am more determined, But all that is left Is the promise Of...

    Out of the Forge: April 6, 2017

    Some nights I feel like I am singing in a mall. Tonight--in a fun way--it felt a bit like I walked into the Natick mall at Christmas time and pulled out my guitar in front of the Apple store and started to play, but like every night down at the inn it evolved into a...

    The Gift Unclaimed

    I have an old lobster buoy Hanging dully from A wrought-iron basket hook— A rough cutaway Filled with suet, Clabbered in wire mesh. . I had imagined chickadees Squabbling with angry jays And occasional sparrows, finches— Maybe even cedar waxwings tired of scrounging...

    Thanksgiving

    I am surprised sometimes by the suddenness of November: beauty abruptly shed to a common nakedness— grasses deadened by hoarfrost, persistent memories of people I’ve lost. It is left to those of us dressed in the hard barky skin of experience to insist on a decorum...

    Raccoon Welcome

    Welcome

    A New Beginning

     I guess if there is any constant in my life, it is new beginnings.  This blog--and this website--is another new beginning starting here late on a cold night on my back porch. I've been keeping a blog (in fact several blogs) since the first blogs made their way on to...

    The Snow

    has dropped a seamlessness before the plows and children can patch it back to a jagged and arbitrary quilting putting borders to design and impulse. I imagine myself falling everywhere softly, whispering, I am here, and I am here.

    The Queer Folk

    True to my words of earlier this week, I finished this song last night, and at the time, I liked it--but in the clear light of day, too much of it seems forced, especially the rhymes. But that is part of the process. I think I am almost there. Let me get my saw and...

    What Are We Afraid Of?

    Good intentions are easily hobbled by inaction. There has always been a murky and muddied No Mans Land in every war where the evil and the righteous trade the moral high ground. This is not the case in Ukraine. Putin’s actions are evil--pure, unmitigated, unprovoked...

    China Journal: Part Two

    II The grass grows. The rain falls Nothing is done. Nothing is left undone ~Buddha   A day can be perfect. I have to believe this. Today was. Is. Is was a day in china. The sun breaking through today after yesterday’s typhoon. Lazy walk to the coffee shop....

    Life Ain’t Hard; Its Just a Waterfall

    You say, hey,
    who are you to say that you’re the one
    to go telling me just where I’m coming from.
    You can have your cake
    but don’t frost me ‘til I’m done.
    I can’t be fixed and I can’t afford to stall;
    because life ain’t hard it’s just a waterfall.

    No Dad To Come Home To

    Rain’s falling outside of Boston—
    Thank God I’m not working tonight.
    I’ve got six of my own,
    And a stepdaughter at home,
    And a momma keeping things right.
    I wonder if they’re at the table
    With their puzzles, their papers and pens?
    When I get off the highway
    And pull in that driveway,
    Will they run to the window again?

    Kampuchea

    I stutter for normality across the river from black men fishing for kibbers and horned pout. Barefoot children rounded bellies curled navels stalk the turtle sunning on a log. lonely in the field grass lonely on the curbstones I stutter for normality. Not a mother...

    Diesel Lullaby

    I've been spending a lot of time lately writing sketches of songs—some more complete than others. I have found that it takes time for a song to evolve into its final form, so what I have posted here is more the end of the beginning, not the end. Denise gave me the...

    The Inn

    Every Thursday, for some thirty years, I have been spending this same time each week wrapping up the loose ends of the day before heading down to the inn to play to whomever and whatever shows up. Tonight looks like a fun night: Maroghini will be with me for his last...

    No Dad To Come Home To

    Rain’s falling outside of Boston—
    Thank God I’m not working tonight.
    I’ve got six of my own,
    And a stepdaughter at home,
    And a momma keeping things right.
    I wonder if they’re at the table
    With their puzzles, their papers and pens?
    When I get off the highway
    And pull in that driveway,
    Will they run to the window again?

    Contact John Fitzsimmons...and thanks!