Ancient Ballads

Ancient Ballads

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

Spirit of Change Magazine

“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

The Ancient Ballads

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, wry 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

Ancient Ballads

Remembered Songs Passed through Time…

It is fine and rare night in a pub when a napkin with a song request is passed up to the stage, and I read the scrawled words and see the like of “Barbara Allen,” “The House Carpenter” or “Mattie Groves.”  For me it is like being given the go signal to move in a new direction, to take tar audience on a new journey down a road or river few of them have ever travelled—the road of the ancient ballads. The ancient ballads, as remembered and sung by the early colonists have their roots in the deepest—and often the darkest—recesses of in what is now Europe and Scandinavia. These ballads, while simple in structure and melody, are charged with an emotionally complex underlayment that has somehow managed to keep these songs alive in spite of the diaspora of moving to and settling in to a new world.

In my own recordings of The Ancient Ballads, I have tried to keep things simple—as simple as the ancient times dictated. Oftentimes, even the faint strum of a guitar seems more distractive than attractive; but, that is for you to decide.

This initial compilation of old ballads, is simply a scratching at the surface of the ballad tradition, but these are the ballads I know best; hence it seems like the best place to start.

And maybe for you, too…

Explore The Ancient Ballads…

More from John Fitzsimmons…

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

Lenny Megliola

WEEI Radio

Concord

The people, the music filledness of rush hour traffic skirting puddles work crews packing in laughswearingmudyellowed slickers lighting candle bombs. My sadness the euphoric detachment. I love this town. It breathes me.

Winter in Caribou

I know your name. It’s written there.
I wonder if you care.
A six-pack of Narragansett beer,
Some Camels and the brownie over there.
Every day I stop by like I
Got some place I’ve got to go;
I’m buying things I don’t really need:
I don’t read the Boston Globe.

But I, I think that I
Caught the corner of your eye.
But why, why can’t I try
To say the things I’ve got inside
To you ….

Molting

I am always molting; leaving my hollowed skin in awkward places, scaring people and making them jump. They touch me and think I’m real; then laugh and say things like “What a riot.” I’m tired of this changing of skins. I’d rather stumble on myself and be fooled; and...

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

Many Miles To Go

I see it in your eyes
and in the ways you try to smile;
in the ways you whisper—I don’t know—
and put it all off for a while;
then you keep on keeping on
in the only way you know:
you’re scared of where you’re going
and who’ll catch you down below.

Canobie lake

Going to Canobie Lake is always the turning point of the year for me. It is like some primal signal that It is time to turn away from the school year and towards the future.  Obviously, it is my hope that you learned some useful skills this year, but, more...

The Tide

They are building a world and the plastic is fading: Margaret and Eddie's buckets are split, pouring out the warm Atlantic as they race along the tidal flat, filling pools connected by frantically dug canals. Tommy squats naked and screams in guttural joy at the...

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...

Somewhere North of Bangor

Somewhere north of Bangor
on the run from Tennessee.
Lost in back scrub paper land
in section TR-3.
It’s hit him he’s an outlaw
a Georgia cracker’s son,
who killed a man in Nashville
with his daddies favorite gun.
It’s hit him with the loneliness
of wondering where you are
on a long ago railway
stretched between two stars.

Reflecting on Literature

I am constantly asking my students (and myself) to reflect on the literature they, and I, read. As I have grown older—and not necessarily wiser—I find myself only reading literature that I am sure will prod me out of my intellectual and emotional torpor, like a lizard...

The Old Tote Road

I clabber down the old tote road towards the red pine forest, leaning on my staff, skirting boulder-strewn ruts and small gullies carved out by two days of heavy rain. It is only a mile or so from our cabin, still, my wife makes me wear a pouch with an iPhone and an...

Metamorphoses

It’s something I‘ve hardly ever thought of:
this simple and rattling old diesel
has always gotten me there and then some;
and so at first I think this sputtering
is just some clog, and easily explained:
some bad fuel maybe, from the new Exxon,
or just shortsightedness on maintenance.
I’ve always driven in the red before,
and these have all been straight highway miles —

Zenmo Yang Ni

I lost the time I hardly knew you,
half-assed calling:
“How you doing?
Laughing at my hanging hay field;
I never knew the time
that tomorrow’d bring,
until it brung to me.

Yuan lai jui shuo: “Zenmoyang ni?”
Xianzai chang shu: “Dou hai keyi”;
Xiexie nimen, dou hen shang ni.
Xiwang wo men dou hen leyi
Dou hen leyi

The Blathering of Teachers

To succeed, jump as quickly at opportunities  as you do at conclusions. ~Benjamin Franklin             Maybe we are born more to ignore than to listen. I understand too well how easy it is to ignore the blatherings of teachers. I was a master of it once myself, so why...

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...

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...

Quit Your Whining

Anything worth succeeding in is worth failing in~Ben Franklin     "Quit your whining and complaining" is probably a clause that can easily be translated into every language in every culture on earth, for, from what I know and have seen in the world, bitching about...

Mum…

Very jealous today of all the folks I see spending time with their respective moms--and sad for those who can't and for those whose wives were taken from their families too early in life... This is my remmebrance of my "mum" who died several years ago.       I ran...

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.

Evolution

The coyotes and fisher cats seem intent on striking some new deal with each other to toy with our fears in this gentleman's wilderness— patches of dense woods dotted with overgrown fields, riven and intersected by highways, powerlines and quiet, suburban...

Presenting…

"Anything worth succeeding in, is worth failing in."~by Edison?      A contractor friend showed up at my house a few weeks ago just after I finished making the hearth and installing my new wood/coal stove. He complimented me on how "awesome" it looked. I then lamented...

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...

Practicing What I Preach

It is not where you go. It is how you go. ~Fitz Is there any value in coming to the page this late at night after three hours of singing in a pub, just because I said I would? I expect you to go to the empty page and pry tired and stubborn thoughts and lay them on the...

The Fallacy of Philanthropy

There are thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one striking at the root. ~Henry David Thoreau     I just spent a long day deconstructing our backyard. EJ sold his alpacas, and so our fenced in pasture and barn can now return to its suburban origins as a shed...

The March Snow

An early March snow brought down all these branches Cracking and crashing throughout a long night, Piling them impatiently in the yard Like jacksticks in a child’s messy room. The stepladder I used to rake the ridge Stands like an awkward sculpture draped in white...

Marriage & Magnanimity

If we want to have the freedom to marry whom we want to marry, why is it so important that the state (government) recognise that marriage? Is it simply the expediency of dispensing the entitlements of a marriage certificate: tax benefits, employment benefits, or the...

Me & God

        I am not done with God, nor God with me. I remain obsessed with the notion of the unmoved mover who set the pattern of creation into its initial motion. I stubbornly try to trace my existence back to some infinite beginning—so much so that I loathe the...

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...

A New Hearth

It has been a long time since I wrote a simple old "this is what I am going to do today" post. So this is what I am going to do today: [and trust me, it will have nothing--absolutely nothing--to do with school work:)] Before the true winter settles in, I am going to...

Welcome

I, on my side, require of every writer, first or last, a simple and sincere account of his own life, and not merely what he has heard of other men's lives; some such account as he would send to his kindred from a distant land... ~Henry David Thoreau, Walden I’ve...

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...

Supermoon

Last night the August supermoon reminded me of the fickleness of time and how substance becomes shadow and memories begin to etch themselves immutably into the hardness of what is already lost.

A Priori

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.

Weekend Custody

Jesse calls up this morning—
“You can come downstairs now;
You see the grapefruit bowl?
Well, I fixed it all;
I fixed everything for you.”

Everything’s for you…

“Let me help you make the coffee,
Momma says you drink it too.
I can’t reach the stove,
But I can pour it, though—
What’s it like living alone?”

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...

The Mystery Within

EJ wanted a banana tree for Christmas so that early morning brought a plastic bag, a few meager roots and no directions. I bought some potting soil and a square cedar box EJ placed deliberately by a westward window. He gently splayed the roots, pressed the soil, and...

The Fisher

To cast far is to cast well. I’ve always believed that the biggest fish are just beyond my range and lie in dark water I could never swim to. But experience is the wisdom that has me now casting closer to shore, nearest the reeds and overgrowth — a subtleness geared...

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...

The Mystery in the Cradle

This picture is from Christmas eleven years ago when Tommy was only two weeks old, and now all of them—and Gio and Pipo--are playing charades or some such game in the dining room, shouting and laughing at each other's miscues and fortifying another enduring memory...

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...

Contact Fitz!

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Little Musgrave

Little Musgrave

The Ancient Ballads

Little Musgrave & Lady Barnard

Little Musgrave & Lady Barnard

by John Fitzsimmons | The American Folk Experience

Child Ballad #81

 

On a day, on a day, on a bright holiday as many there be in the year
When Little Musgrave to the church did go, god’s holy word to hear.

He went and he stood all at the church door; he watched the priest at his mass.
But he had more mind of the fair women than he had of Our Lady’s grace.

For some of them were clad in the green and some were clad in the pall,
And in and come Lord Barnard’s wife, the fairest among them all.

She cast her eye on Little Musgrave, full bright as the summer sun,
And then and thought this Little Musgrave, this lady’s heart I have won.

Says she, “I have loved thee, Little Musgrave, full long and many’s the day.”
“So have I loved, lady fair, yet never a word durst I say.”

“Oh I have a bower at Bucklesfordberry all daintily painted white
And if thou’d went thither, thou Little Musgrave, thou’s lie in my arms all this night.”

Says he, “I thank thee, lady fair, this kindness thou showest to me
And this night will I to Bucklesfordberry, all night for to lay with thee.”

When he heard that, her little foot page all by her foot as he run
He says, “Although I am my lady’s page, yet am I Lord Barnard’s man.

My Lord Barnard shall know of this, whether I do sink or do swim.”
And ever where the bridges were broke, he laid to his breast and he swum.

“Oh sleep thou wake, thou Lord Barnard, as thou art a man of life.
For Little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordberry in bed with thine own wedded wife.”

“Oh if this be true, thou little foot page, this thing that thou tellest to me
Then all my land in Bucklesfordberry freely I give it to thee.

But if this be a lie, thou little foot page, this thing that thou tellest to me
Then from the highest tree in Bucklesfordberry high hanged thou shalt be.”

And he called to him his merry men, all by one by two by three,
Says, “this night must I to Bucklesfordberry, for never had I greater need.”

And he called to him his stable boy, “Go saddle me me milk-white steed.”
And he’s trampled o’er them green mossy banks, till his horse’s hooves did bleed.

And some men whistled, and some men sang, and some these words did say
Whene’er my Lord Barnard’s horn blew, “Away, Musgrave away.”

“Methinks I hear the thistle cock, methinks I hear the jay,
Methinks I hear the Lord Barnard’s horn, and I wish I were away.”

“Lie still, lie still, thou Little Musgrave, come cuddle me from the cold,
For tis nothing but a shepherd boy, adriving his sheep to the fold.

Is not thy hawk sat upon his perch, they steed eats oats and hay,
And thou with a fair maid in thy arms and would’st thou be away.”

With that my Lord Barnard come to the door and he lit upon a stone,
And he’s drawn out three silver keys and he’s opened the doors each one.

And he’s lifted up the green coverlet and he’s lifted up the sheet:
“How now, how now, thou Little Musgrave, dost find my lady sweet?”

“I find her sweet,” says Little Musgrave, “The more tis to my pain
For I would give three hundred pounds, that I was on yonder plain.”

“Rise up, rise up,” thou Little Musgrave, “and put thy clothes on
For never shall they say in my own country i slew a naked man.

Oh I have two swords in one scabbard, full dearly they cost my purse.
And thou shall have the best of them, and I shall have the worst.”

Now the very first blow Little Musgrave struck, he hurt Lord Barnard sore; 
But the very first blow Lord Barnard struck, little Musgrave ne’er struck more.

Then up and spoke his lady fair, from the bed whereon she lay,
She says, “Although thou art dead, thou Little Musgrave, yet for thee will I pray.

I will wish well to thy soul, as long as I have life,
Yet will I not for thee Lord Barnard, though I am your own wedded wife.”

Oh he’s cut the paps from off her breast, great pity it was to see
How the drops of this lady’s heart’s blood came a-trickling down her knee.

Oh woe be to ye, me merry men, all you were ne’er born for my good.
Why did you not offer to stay my hand, when you see me grow so mad?”

“A grave, a grave,” Lord Barnard cried, “to put these lovers in.
But lay my lady on the upper hand, she was the chiefest of her kin.”

(as sung by Martin Carthy)

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

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. 

I share their research on my site with humility, thanks, and gratitude. Please cite their work accordingly with your own research. If you have any research or sites you would like to share on this site, please post in the comment box.  Thanks!

Matty Groves
English folk song
"A lamentable ballad of the little Musgrove". A seventeenth-century broadside held in the Bodleian Library.
CatalogueChild Ballad 81
Roud Folk Song Index 52
GenreBallad
LanguageEnglish
PerformedFirst attested in writing in 1613
PublishedEarliest surviving broadside dated to before 1675
Also known by several other names

"Matty Groves", also known as "Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard" or "Little Musgrave", is a ballad probably originating in Northern England that describes an adulterous tryst between a young man and a noblewoman that is ended when the woman's husband discovers and kills them. It is listed as Child ballad number 81 and number 52 in the Roud Folk Song Index.[1][2] This song exists in many textual variants and has several variant names. The song dates to at least 1613, and under the title Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard is one of the Child ballads collected by 19th-century American scholar Francis James Child.

Synopsis

Little Musgrave (or Matty Groves, Little Matthew Grew and other variations) goes to church on a holy day either "the holy word to hear" or "to see fair ladies there". He sees Lord Barnard's wife, the fairest lady there, and realises that she is attracted to him. She invites him to spend the night with her, and he agrees when she tells him her husband is away from home. Her page overhears the conversation and goes to find Lord Barnard (Arlen, Daniel, Arnold, Donald, Darnell, Darlington) and tells him that Musgrave is in bed with his wife. Lord Barnard promises the page a large reward if he is telling the truth and to hang him if he is lying. Lord Barnard and his men ride to his home, where he surprises the lovers in bed. Lord Barnard tells Musgrave to dress because he doesn't want to be accused of killing a naked man. Musgrave says he dare not because he has no weapon, and Lord Barnard gives him the better of two swords. In the subsequent duel Little Musgrave wounds Lord Barnard, who then kills him. (However, in one version "Magrove" instead runs away, naked but alive.)[3][4]

Lord Barnard then asks his wife whether she still prefers Little Musgrave to him and when she says she would prefer a kiss from the dead man's lips to her husband and all his kin, he kills her. He then says he regrets what he has done and orders the lovers to be buried in a single grave, with the lady at the top because "she came of the better kin". In some versions Barnard is hanged, or kills himself, or finds his own infant son dead in his wife's body. Many versions omit one or more parts of the story.[1]

It has been speculated that the original names of the characters, Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard, come from place names in the north of England (specifically Little Musgrave in Westmorland and Barnard Castle in County Durham). The place name "Bucklesfordbury", found in both English and American versions of the song, is of uncertain origin.

Some versions of the ballad include elements of an alba, a poetic form in which lovers part after spending a night together.

Early printed versions

There are few broadside versions. There are three different printings in the Bodleian Library's Broadside Ballads Online, all dating from the second half of the seventeenth century. One, The lamentable Ditty of the little Mousgrove, and the Lady Barnet from the collection of Anthony Wood, has a handwritten note by Wood on the reverse stating that "the protagonists were alive in 1543".[5][6][7][8]

Below are the first four verses as written in a version published in 1658.

As it fell one holy-day,

Hay downe

As many be in the yeare,

When young men and maids together did goe,

Their mattins and masse to heare,


Little Musgrave came to the church-dore;

Hay downe

The preist was at private masse;

But he had more minde of the faire women

Than he had of Our Lady’s grace.


Then one of them was clad in green,

Hay downe

Another was clad in pall,

And then came in my lord Bernard’s wife,

The fairest amongst them all.


She cast an eye on Little Musgrave,

Hay downe

As bright as the summer sun;

And then bethought this Little Musgrave,

This lady’s heart have I woonn.[9]

Traditional recordings

It seems that the ballad had largely died out in the British Isles by the time folklorists began collecting songs. Cecil Sharp collected a version from an Agnes Collins in London in 1908, the only known version to have been collected in England.[10][11] James Madison Carpenter recorded some Scottish versions, probably in the early 1930s, which can be heard on the Vaughan Williams Memorial Library website.[12][13] The Scottish singer Jeannie Robertson was recorded on separate occasions singing a traditional version of the song entitled "Matty Groves" in the late 1950s by Alan Lomax,[14] Peter Kennedy[15] and Hamish Henderson.[16] However, according to the Tobar an Dualchais website, Robertson may have learned her version from Johnny Wells and Sandy Paton, Paton being an American singer and folk song collector.[17]

Dozens of traditional versions of the ballad were recorded in the Appalachian region. Jean Bell Thomas recorded Green Maggard singing "Lord Daniel" in Ashland, Kentucky, in 1934, which was released on the anthology 'Kentucky Mountain Music' Yazoo YA 2200.[18] Bascom Lamar Lunsford was recorded singing a version called "Lord Daniel's Wife" in 1935.[19] Samuel Harmon, known as "Uncle" Sam Harmon, was recorded by Herbert Halpert in Maryville, Tennessee, in 1939 singing a traditional version.[20] The influential Appalachian folk singer Jean Ritchie had her family version of the ballad, called "Little Musgrave", recorded by Alan Lomax in 1949,[21] who made a reel-to-reel recording of it in his apartment in Greenwich Village;[22] she later released a version on her album Ballads from her Appalachian Family Tradition (1961).[23] In August 1963, John Cohen recorded Dillard Chandler singing "Mathie Groves" in Sodom, North Carolina,[24] whilst Nimrod Workman, another Appalachian singer, had a traditional version of the song recorded in 1974.[25]

The folklorist Helen Hartness Flanders recorded many versions in New England in the 1930s and 40s,[26] all of which can be heard online in the Flanders Ballad Collection.[27]

Canadian folklorists such as Helen Creighton, Kenneth Peacock and Edith Fowke recorded about a dozen versions in Canada, mostly in Nova Scotia and Newfoundland.[28]

A number of songs and tales collected in the Caribbean are based on, or refer to, the ballad.[29][30][31][32]

Variant Lord/Lady's surname Lover Notes
The Old ballad of Little Musgrave and the Lady Barnard Barnard Little Musgrave This version has the foot-page
Mattie Groves Arlen Little Mattie Groves [33]
Matty Groves Darnell Matty Groves [34]

Some of the versions of the song subsequently recorded differ from Child's catalogued version.[35] The earliest published version appeared in 1658 (see Literature section below). A copy was also printed on a broadside by Henry Gosson, who is said to have printed between 1607 and 1641.[33] Some variation occurs in where Matty is first seen; sometimes at church, sometimes playing ball.

Matty Groves also shares some mid-song stanzas with the ballad "Fair Margaret and Sweet William" (Child 74, Roud 253).[36][37]

Other names for the ballad:

  • Based on the lover
    • Little Sir Grove
    • Little Massgrove
    • Matthy Groves
    • Wee Messgrove
    • Little Musgrave
    • Young Musgrave
    • Little Mushiegrove
  • Based on the lord
    • Lord Aaron
    • Lord Arlen
    • Lord Arnold
    • Lord Barlibas
    • Lord Barnabas
    • Lord Barnaby
    • Lord Barnard
    • Lord Barnett
    • Lord Bengwill
    • Lord Darlen
    • Lord Darnell
    • Lord Donald
  • Based on a combination of names
    • Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard
    • Little Musgrave and Lady Barnet
    • Lord Barnett and Little Munsgrove
    • Lord Vanner’s Wife [and Magrove][3][4]

Literature

The earliest known reference to the ballad is in Beaumont and Fletcher's 1613 play The Knight of the Burning Pestle:

And some they whistled, and some they sung,
Hey, down, down!
And some did loudly say,
Ever as the Lord Barnet's horn blew,
Away, Musgrave, away![38]

Al Hine's 1961 novel Lord Love a Duck opens and closes with excerpts from the ballad, and borrows the names Musgrave and Barnard for two characters.[39]

Deborah Grabien's third book in the Haunted Ballad series, Matty Groves (2005), puts a different spin on the ballad.[40]

Commercial recordings

Versions of some performers could be mentioned as the most notable or successful, including those by Jean Ritchie[41] or Martin Carthy.[42]

Year Release (Album / "Single") Performer Variant Notes
1956 John Jacob Niles Sings American Folk Songs John Jacob Niles Little Mattie Groves
1958 Shep Ginandes Sings Folk Songs Shep Ginandes Mattie Groves [43]
1960 British Traditional Ballads in the Southern Mountains, Volume 2 Jean Ritchie Little Musgrave
1962 Joan Baez in Concert Joan Baez Matty Groves
1964 Introducing the Beers Family Beers Family Mattie Groves
1966 Home Again! Doc Watson Matty Groves
1969 Liege & Lief Fairport Convention Matty Groves Set to the tune of the otherwise unrelated Appalachian song "Shady Grove"; this hybrid version has therefore entered other performers' repertoires over time (the frequency of this as well as the similarity of the names has led to the erroneous assumption that "Shady Grove" is directly descended from "Matty Groves"). Several live recordings also.[citation needed]
1969 Prince Heathen Martin Carthy Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard
1970 Ballads and Songs Nic Jones Little Musgrave
1976 Christy Moore Christy Moore Little Musgrave Set to a tune Andy Irvine learnt from Nic Jones[44]
1977 Never Set the Cat on Fire Frank Hayes Like a Lamb to the Slaughter Done as a parody talking blues version
1980 The Woman I Loved So Well Planxty Little Musgrave
1990 Masque Paul Roland Matty Groves
1992 Just Gimme Somethin' I'm Used To Norman and Nancy Blake Little Matty Groves
1992 Out Standing in a Field The Makem Brother and Brian Sullivan Matty Groves
1993 In Good King Arthur's Day Graham Dodsworth Little Musgrave
1994 You Could Be the Meadow Eden Burning
1995 Live at the Mineshaft Tavern ThaMuseMeant
1997 On and On Fiddler's Green Matty Groves
1994 You Could Be the Meadow Eden Burning
1999 Trad Arr Jones John Wesley Harding Little Musgrave
2000 Hepsankeikka Tarujen Saari Kaunis neito (In Finnish)
2001 Listen, Listen Continental Drifters Matty Groves
2002 Ralph Stanley Ralph Stanley Little Mathie Grove
2004 Live 2004 Planxty Little Musgrave
2005 Dark Holler: Old Love Songs and Ballads Dillard Chandler Mathie Grove Acapella Appalachian.[45]
2005 De Andere Kust Kadril Matty Groves
2007 Season of the Witch The Strangelings Matty Groves
2007 Prodigal Son Martin Simpson Little Musgrave
2008 The Peacemaker's Chauffeur Jason Wilson Matty Groves Reggae version, featuring Dave Swarbrick & Brownman Ali
2009 Folk Songs James Yorkston and the Big Eyes Family Players Little Musgrave
2009 Alela & Alina Alela Diane featuring Alina Hardin Matty Groves, Lord Arland
2009 Tales From the Crow Man Damh the Bard Matty Groves
2009 Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards Tom Waits Mathie Grove
2010 Sweet Joan Sherwood Matty Groves (In Russian)
2011 Birds' Advice Elizabeth Laprelle Mathey Groves
2011 "Little Musgrave" The Musgraves Little Musgrave YouTube video recorded to explain the band's name
2011 In Silence Marc Carroll Matty Groves
2012 Retrospective The Kennedys Matty Groves
2013 The Irish Connection 2 Johnny Logan
2013 Fugitives Moriarty Matty Groves
2019 Dark Turn of Mind Iona Fyfe Little Musgrave Scots folklore variant written in Scottish English[46]
2019 Návrat krále Asonance Matty Groves (In Czech)
2024 Kleptocracy Ferocious Dog Matty Groves

Film and television

Film

In the film Songcatcher (2000), the song is performed by Emmy Rossum and Janet McTeer.

Television

In season 5 episode 2, "Gently with Class" (2012), of the British television series Inspector George Gently, the song is performed by Ebony Buckle, playing the role of singer Ellen Mallam in that episode, singing it as "Matty Groves".

Musical variants

In 1943, the English composer Benjamin Britten used this folk song as the basis of a choral piece entitled "The Ballad of Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard".[47]

"The Big Musgrave", a parody by the Kipper Family, appears on their 1988 LP Fresh Yesterday. The hero in this version is called Big Fatty Groves.[48]

Frank Hayes created a talking blues version of Matty Groves called "Like a Lamb to the Slaughter," which won the 1994 Pegasus Award for "Best Risqué Song."

"Maggie Gove", a parody by UK comedy folk-band The Bar-Steward Sons of Val Doonican, appears on their 2022 album Rugh & Ryf. The anti-hero in this version is Margaret Gove, a folk-singer of traditional broadside ballads.[49] The song features guest appearances from Dave Pegg and Dave Mattacks from Fairport Convention.[citation needed]

See also

The previous and next Child Ballads:

References

  1. ^ a b Francis James Child (13 November 2012). The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Vol. 2. Courier Corporation. p. 243. ISBN 9780486152837. Retrieved 28 February 2017.
  2. ^ "Matty Groves". vwml.org. English Folk Dance and Song Society / Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Archived from the original on 15 December 2017. Retrieved 3 March 2017.
  3. ^ a b "Katherine Jackson French: Kentucky's Forgotten Ballad Collector". Oldtime Central. 23 June 2020. Retrieved 18 January 2021.
  4. ^ a b DiSavino, Elizabeth (2020). Katherine Jackson French: Kentucky's Forgotten Ballad Collector. University Press of Kentucky.
  5. ^ "A Lamentable Ballad of Little Musgrave, and the Lady Barnet". ballads.bodleian.ox.ac.uk. Bodleian Ballads Online. Retrieved 3 March 2017.
  6. ^ "The lamentable Ditty of little Mousgrove, and the Lady Barnet". ballads.bodleian.ox.ac.uk. Bodleian Ballads Online. Retrieved 3 March 2017.
  7. ^ "[A] Lamentable Ballad of the Little Musgrove, and the Lady Barnet". ballads.bodleian.ox.ac.uk. Bodleian Ballads Online. Retrieved 3 March 2017.
  8. ^ "Ballads Online". ballads.bodleian.ox.ac.uk.
  9. ^ "Child Ballads - Lyrics". 71.174.62.16. Retrieved 16 December 2021.
  10. ^ "Little Musgrave (Cecil Sharp Manuscript Collection (at Clare College, Cambridge) CJS2/9/1553)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  11. ^ "Little Musgrave (Cecil Sharp Manuscript Collection (at Clare College, Cambridge) CJS2/10/1691)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  12. ^ "Little Musgrove (VWML Song Index SN18800)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  13. ^ "Little Musgrove (VWML Song Index SN19227)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  14. ^ "Lord Donald (Roud Folksong Index S341660)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  15. ^ "Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard (Roud Folksong Index S242813)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  16. ^ "Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard (Roud Folksong Index S437094)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  17. ^ Jeannie Robertson singing "Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard", recorded in Scotland by Hamish Henderson (September 1960). "Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard". www.tobarandualchais.co.uk (Reel-to-reel). Scotland: Tobar an Dualchais/Kist o' Riches. Retrieved 3 March 2017.
  18. ^ "Roud Folksong Index (S243414) - "Lord Daniel"". vwml.org. English Folk Dance and Song Society / Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 3 March 2017.
  19. ^ "Lord Daniel's Wife (Roud Folksong Index S262168)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  20. ^ "Little Matthew Grove (Roud Folksong Index S261972)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  21. ^ "Little Musgrave (Roud Folksong Index S341705)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  22. ^ Jean Ritchie singing "Little Musgrave" in Alan Lomax's apartment, 3rd Street, Greenwich Village, New York City (New York), United States (2 June 1949). "Little Musgrave". research.culturalequity.org (Reel-to-reel). New York: Association for Cultural Equity. Retrieved 3 March 2017.
  23. ^ "Jean Ritchie: Ballads from her Appalachian Family Tradition". Smithsonian Folkways Recordings. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  24. ^ "Mathie Groves (Roud Folksong Index S373182)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  25. ^ "Lord Daniel (Roud Folksong Index S401586)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  26. ^ "VWML: rn52 sound usa flanders". Vaughan Williams Memorial Library.
  27. ^ "Helen Hartness Flanders Ballad Collection : Free Audio : Free Download, Borrow and Streaming : Internet Archive". archive.org. Retrieved 23 November 2020.
  28. ^ "rn52 sound canada". Vaughan Williams Memorial Library.
  29. ^ "Little Musgrove- Maroons (JM) pre1924 Beckwith C". bluegrassmessengers.com. Retrieved 28 February 2017.
  30. ^ "Garoleen- Joseph (St Vincent) 1966 Abrahams C". bluegrassmessengers.com. Retrieved 28 February 2017.
  31. ^ "Matty Glow- Antoine (St Vincent) 1966 Abrahams B". bluegrassmessengers.com. Retrieved 28 February 2017.
  32. ^ "Little Musgrove- Forbes (JM) pre1924 Beckwith A , B". bluegrassmessengers.com. Retrieved 28 February 2017.
  33. ^ a b "Mattie Groves". contemplator.com. Retrieved 9 February 2016.
  34. ^ "The Celtic Lyrics Collection - Lyrics". celtic-lyrics.com. Archived from the original on 20 November 2010. Retrieved 9 February 2016.
  35. ^ Francis James Child (13 November 2012). The English and Scottish Popular Ballads. Courier Corporation. p. 243. ISBN 9780486152837. Retrieved 28 February 2016.
  36. ^ Keefer, Jane (2011). "Fair Margaret and Sweet William". Ibiblio. Retrieved 16 January 2013.
  37. ^ Niles, John Jacob (1961). The Ballad Book of John Jacob Niles. Bramhall House, New York. pp. 159–161, 194–197.
  38. ^ "The Knight of the Burning Pestle, by Beaumont & Fletcher, edited by F. W. Moorman". gutenberg.ca.
  39. ^ Hine, Al (1961). Lord Love a Duck. Longmans, Green & Co. pp. 2, 367. Retrieved 12 March 2017 – via babel.hathitrust.org.
  40. ^ Grabien, Deborah (2005). Matty Groves. Minotaur Books. ISBN 0-312-33389-7. Retrieved 28 February 2016 – via amazon.com.
  41. ^ Midwest Folklore. Indiana University. 1954.
  42. ^ The Gramophone. C. Mackenzie. 1969.
  43. ^ ""Mattie Groves" by Shep Ginandes". secondhandsongs.com. SecondHandSongs. 1958. Retrieved 28 February 2016.
  44. ^ "YouTube". www.youtube.com. Archived from the original on 21 December 2021.
  45. ^ Smithsonian Folkways – SFW 40170
  46. ^ Fyfe, Iona [in Scots] (1 January 2019). "Little Musgrave". Dark Turn of Mind. Bandcamp (Media notes). Retrieved 9 December 2020.
  47. ^ Stone, Kurt (1 October 1965). "Reviews of Records". The Musical Quarterly. LI (4): 722–724. doi:10.1093/mq/LI.4.722.
  48. ^ "Big Musgrave". The Kipper Family. 5 February 2020. Retrieved 1 March 2023.
  49. ^ "RUGH & RYF | LYRICS". The Bar-Steward Sons of Val Doonican. Retrieved 1 March 2023.
Preceded by
51
List of Roud folk songs
52
Succeeded by
53
Preceded by
80
List of the Child Ballads
81
Succeeded by
82

    Source: Mainly Norfolk

    Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard / Matty Groves

    Roud 52 ; Child 81 ; Ballad Index C081 ; Bodleian Roud 52 ; trad.]

    Jeannie Robertson sang Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard in Aberdeen in 1958 to Peter Kennedy. This recording was included in 2000 on the extended Rounder re-issue of Volume 4 of The Folk Songs of Britain, Classic Ballads of Britain and Ireland Volume 1.

    Peggy Seeger and Ewan MacColl sang Matty Groves in 1961 on their Folkways album of American, Scots and English folksongs, Two-Way Trip. They commented in the album’s booklet:

    This extremely popular traditional ballad is of considerable antiquity and a great number of different versions have been collected. According to Chappell, the first broadside version was published as early as 1607 by Henry Gosson. Child prints 14 texts. The version here is a collation of American and Nova Scotian variants.

    Hedy West sang Little Matty Groves in 1965 on her Topic album of Appalachian ballads, Pretty Saro. She commented in her sleeve notes:

    Little Matty Groves (Litte Musgrave and Lady Barnard) was quoted in Beaumont and Fletcher’s Knight of the Burning Pestle, written about 1611. Both Grandma and Gus’ wife Jane sing a fragment of Little Matty Groves that breaks off before Lord Arnold discovers his wife and Matty Groves in bed together. Neither Grandma nor Jane ever knew more of the ballad. An earlier singer has fragmented the song either by censoring or forgetting. This family version is completed with another American text collected by Vance Randolph. I find the ballad intensely tragic because its characters knowingly pursue ruin by insisting on unbending truthfulness.

    Matty Groves is one of Fairport Convention’s best known songs. They recorded it lots of times both with and without Sandy Denny: The first (and most famous) version with Sandy appeared in 1969 on Liege and Lief where the line-up is Denny / Hutchings / Mattacks / Nicol / Swarbrick / Thompson. This version also appears on The History of Fairport Convention, on the double CD compilation Meet on the Ledge: The Classic Years 1967-1975 and on the Island samplers Island Life: 25 Years of Island Records and Folk Routes. The tune used as the basis for the instrumental at the end comes from a banjo piece by Eddie West, and was also used by Martin Carthy in his version of the song Famous Flower of Serving Men.

    The second version with Sandy was recorded on January 26, 1974 at the Sydney Opera House, Australia, with Denny / Donahue / Lucas / Mattacks / Pegg / Swarbrick. It was released on Fairport’s Live album. Two more performances from Ebbets Field, Denver, Colorado of May 1974 were published in 2002 onBefore the Moon.

    A Danish TV broadcast from November 1969 is not available.

    Fairport Convention’s first version without Sandy Denny appeared on Live at the L.A. Troubadour, recorded in 1970 with Mattacks / Nicol / Pegg / Swarbrick / Thompson, and the second version is on the 1979 live album Farewell, Farewell. The third version without Sandy was recorded for the 1987 live-in-the-studio album In Real Time, as part of the “Big Three Medley”; this version also appeared in the video It All Comes ‘Round Again.

    And this Fairport perennial is treated to yet another arrangements, e.g. live at Cropredy 1983, which was released on the cassette The Boot—1983 Fairport Reunion, in the 1990 video Live Legends, and on the 25th Anniversary Concert CD (1992).

    A specially multi-version compiled of several Matty Groves versions—among them Sandy in the classic Liege and Lief rendering—is on the Fairport unConventioNal 4CD set. It is framed by excerpts from “The Matty Groves Crime Report” which began Fairport’s set at Cropredy in 1998.

    Martin Carthy sang Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard unaccompanied on his 1969 album with Dave Swarbrick, Prince Heathen. He commented in the album’s sleeve notes:

    The story speaks for itself and really needs nothing written about it at all. The tune I pinched from a version of the Holy Well.

    Nic Jones sang Little Musgrave in 1970 on his first solo album, Ballads and Songs. He commented in his album sleeve notes:

    Three very common ballads are included in this record: Sir Patrick SpensThe Outlandish Knight and Little Musgrave. All three are well-known to anyone with a knowledge of balladry, as they are well represented in most ballad collections. … Musgrave‘s tune is more a creation of my one than anything else, although the bulk of it is based on an American variant of the same ballad, entitled Little Matty Groves.

    John Wesley Harding covered Nic Jones’s version in 1999 on his CD Trad Arr Jones. See also Karen Myer’s blog analysing Nic Jones’ song.

    Frankie Armstrong sang Little Musgrave in 1975 on her Topic album Songs and Ballads. A.L. Lloyd commented in the sleeve notes:

    Many people connect the events of this ballad with the district of Barnard Castle, Co. Durham. Perhaps. Anyway, the song tells a powerful story that unrolls like a film scenario, exterior, interior, distant shots that cut to close-up. Frankie Armstrong finds this exceptionally powerful: the wife trapped in a marriage probably not of her own choosing; the lover whose ardour outweighs his caution; the husband who has to be seen to do the right thing and who desperately tries to avoid the tragic outcome. The words of this version are substantially those obtained by William Motherwell “from the recitation of Mrs. McConechie, Kilmarnock” at the start of the nineteenth century. A bit of the ballad is quoted in Beaumont and Fletcher’s Knight of the Burning Pestle (1611), and it was printed on broadsides several times in the seventeenth century but by the mid-nineteenth century it was rarely reported; such a good song, one wonders why; especially as it remained popular among American folk singers.

    Christy Moore sang Little Musgrave in 1980 on Planxty’s Tara album The Woman I Loved So Well. He commented in the album’s sleeve notes:

    I was first drawn to this song by its length. The first verse appealed to me because I too went to Mass to look at girls. I collected it in a book which had no music but I was lucky to collect a tune from Nic Jones album discovered on a field trip through Liam O’Flynn’s flat. I first heard the adjoining tune (Paddy Fahey’s Reel) in a dressing room in Germany when, having just died the death, Matt played to us and made me forget where I was for 3 minutes 23 seconds.

    John Wright sang Matty Groves in 1997 on the Fellside anthology Ballads. Paul Adams commented in the liner notes:

    Adultery, lust, an unfaithful wife, revenge, crime of passion, loyalty—modern tabloids would have a field day with this story. Matty has ideas above his station. He also is one of the earliest recorded “toy boys.” This is another well travelled ballad which got a new lease of life a few years ago when it was recorded by the folk rock band, Fairport Convention. John has two versions, one from the great Scots ballad singer Jeannie Robertson via Lorna Campbell and the other from the Appalachian singer, Hedy West. Unable to choose John extracted the best elements of each and created this version. What makes the story classic tragedy is the way in which all principal characters progress inexorably to the inevitable conclusion.

    Isla St Clair sang Matty Groves in 2000 on her CD Royal Lovers & Scandals.

    The Continental Drifters covered Fairport Convention’s version of Matty Groves in 2001 on their album Listen, Listen. and Linde Nijland sang it in 2003 on her CD Linde Nijland Sings Sandy Denny.

    Martin Simpson sang Little Musgrave in 2007 on his Topic CD and DVD Prodigal Son. He commented in his liner notes:

    When learning a version of a big ballad, there are often many choices to be made. There may be several recorded versions that you like, or a great tune with a dubious text, or vice versa, or no tune and little text. You might have to write or re-build and collate. In the case of Little Musgrave I had spent several years reading, listening and considering, when one day I remembered Nic Jones’ recorded version on his first album, Ballads and Songs. I didn’t go back and listen, I just started to play.

    This video shows Martin Simpson at Bournemouth Folk Club, Centre Stage, Dorset, UK, on March 8, 2009:

    James Yorkston & The Big Eyes Family Players sang Little Musgrave in 2009 on their CD Folk Songs.

    Jon Boden sang Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard as the May 30, 2011 entry of his project A Folk Song a Day.

    Gudrun Walther sang Planxty’s version of Little Musgrave on Cara’s 2016 CD Yet We Sing.

    Lyrics

    Sandy Denny sings Matty Groves

    A holiday, a holiday, and the first one of the year.
    Lord Darnell’s wife came into church, the gospel for to hear.

    And when the meeting it was done, she cast her eyes about,
    And there she saw little Matty Groves, walking in the crowd.

    “Come home with me, little Matty Groves, come home with me tonight.
    Come home with me, little Matty Groves, and sleep with me till light.”

    “Oh, I can’t come home, I won’t come home and sleep with you tonight,
    By the rings on your fingers I can tell you are Lord Darnell’s wife.”

    “What if I am Lord Darnell’s wife? Lord Darnell’s not at home.
    For he is out in the far cornfields, bringing the yearlings home.”

    And a servant who was standing by and hearing what was said,
    He swore Lord Darnell he would know before the sun would set.

    And in his hurry to carry the news, he bent his breast and ran,
    And when he came to the broad mill stream, he took off his shoes and swam.

    Little Matty Groves, he lay down and took a little sleep.
    When he awoke, Lord Darnell he was standing at his feet.

    Saying “How do you like my feather bed? And how do you like my sheets?
    How do you like my lady who lies in your arms asleep?”

    “Oh, well I like your feather bed, and well I like your sheets.
    But better I like your lady gay who lies in my arms asleep.”

    “Well, get up, get up,” Lord Darnell cried, “get up as quick as you can!
    It’ll never be said in fair England that I slew a naked man.”

    “Oh, I can’t get up, I won’t get up, I can’t get up for my life.
    For you have two long beaten swords and I not a pocket-knife.”

    “Well it’s true I have two beaten swords, and they cost me deep in the purse.
    But you will have the better of them and I will have the worse.”

    “And you will strike the very first blow, and strike it like a man.
    I will strike the very next blow, and I’ll kill you if I can.”

    So Matty struck the very first blow, and he hurt Lord Darnell sore.
    Lord Darnell struck the very next blow, and Matty struck no more.

    And then Lord Darnell he took his wife and he sat her on his knee,
    Saying, “Who do you like the best of us, Matty Groves or me?”

    And then up spoke his own dear wife, never heard to speak so free.
    “I’d rather a kiss from dead Matty’s lips than you and your finery.”

    Lord Darnell he jumped up and loudly he did bawl,
    He struck his wife right through the heart and pinned her against the wall.

    “A grave, a grave!” Lord Darnell cried, “to put these lovers in.
    But bury my lady at the top for she was of noble kin.”

    Martin Carthy sings Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard

    On a day, on a day, on a bright holiday as many there be in the year
    When Little Musgrave to the church did go, god’s holy word to hear.

    He went and he stood all at the church door; he watched the priest at his mass.
    But he had more mind of the fair women than he had of Our Lady’s grace.

    For some of them were clad in the green and some were clad in the pall,
    And in and come Lord Barnard’s wife, the fairest among them all.

    She cast her eye on Little Musgrave, full bright as the summer sun,
    And then and thought this Little Musgrave, this lady’s heart I have won.

    Says she, “I have loved thee, Little Musgrave, full long and many’s the day.”
    “So have I loved, lady fair, yet never a word durst I say.”

    “Oh I have a bower at Bucklesfordberry all daintily painted white
    And if thou’d went thither, thou Little Musgrave, thou’s lie in my arms all this night.”

    Says he, “I thank thee, lady fair, this kindness thou showest to me
    And this night will I to Bucklesfordberry, all night for to lay with thee.”

    When he heard that, her little foot page all by her foot as he run
    He says, “Although I am my lady’s page, yet am I Lord Barnard’s man.

    My Lord Barnard shall know of this, whether I do sink or do swim.”
    And ever where the bridges were broke, he laid to his breast and he swum.

    “Oh sleep thou wake, thou Lord Barnard, as thou art a man of life.
    For Little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordberry in bed with thine own wedded wife.”

    “Oh if this be true, thou little foot page, this thing that thou tellest to me
    Then all my land in Bucklesfordberry freely I give it to thee.

    But if this be a lie, thou little foot page, this thing that thou tellest to me
    Then from the highest tree in Bucklesfordberry high hanged thou shalt be.”

    And he called to him his merry men, all by one by two by three,
    Says, “this night must I to Bucklesfordberry, for never had I greater need.”

    And he called to him his stable boy, “Go saddle me me milk-white steed.”
    And he’s trampled o’er them green mossy banks, till his horse’s hooves did bleed.

    And some men whistled, and some men sang, and some these words did say
    Whene’er my Lord Barnard’s horn blew, “Away, Musgrave away.”

    “Methinks I hear the thistle cock, methinks I hear the jay,
    Methinks I hear the Lord Barnard’s horn, and I wish I were away.”

    “Lie still, lie still, thou Little Musgrave, come cuddle me from the cold,
    For tis nothing but a shepherd boy, adriving his sheep to the fold.

    Is not thy hawk sat upon his perch, they steed eats oats and hay,
    And thou with a fair maid in thy arms and would’st thou be away.”

    With that my Lord Barnard come to the door and he lit upon a stone,
    And he’s drawn out three silver keys and he’s opened the doors each one.

    And he’s lifted up the green coverlet and he’s lifted up the sheet:
    “How now, how now, thou Little Musgrave, dost find my lady sweet?”

    “I find her sweet,” says Little Musgrave, “The more tis to my pain
    For I would give three hundred pounds, that I was on yonder plain.”

    “Rise up, rise up,” thou Little Musgrave, “and put thy clothes on
    For never shall they say in my own country i slew a naked man.

    Oh I have two swords in one scabbard, full dearly they cost my purse.
    And thou shall have the best of them, and I shall have the worst.”

    Now the very first blow Little Musgrave struck, he hurt Lord Barnard sore;
    But the very first blow Lord Barnard struck, little Musgrave ne’er struck more.

    Then up and spoke his lady fair, from the bed whereon she lay,
    She says, “Although thou art dead, thou Little Musgrave, yet for thee will I pray.

    I will wish well to thy soul, as long as I have life,
    Yet will I not for thee Lord Barnard, though I am your own wedded wife.”

    Oh he’s cut the paps from off her breast, great pity it was to see
    How the drops of this lady’s heart’s blood came a-trickling down her knee.

    “Oh woe be to ye, me merry men, all you were ne’er born for my good.
    Why did you not offer to stay my hand, when you see me grow so mad?”

    “A grave, a grave,” Lord Barnard cried, “to put these lovers in.
    But lay my lady on the upper hand, she was the chiefest of her kin.”

    Nic Jones sings Little Musgrave

    As it fell out upon a day, as many in the year,
    Musgrave to the church did go to see fair ladies there.

    And some came down in red velvet and some came down in pall,
    And the last to come down was the Lady Barnard, the fairest of them all.

    And she’s cast a look on the little Musgrave as bright as the summer’s sun.
    And then bethought this little Musgrave, this lady’s love I’ve won.

    “Good day, good day, you handsome youth, God make you safe and free,
    What would you give this day, Musgrave, to lie one night with me?”

    “Oh, I dare not for my lands, lady, I dare not for my life,
    For the ring on your white finger shows you are Lord Barnard’s wife.”

    “Lord Barnard’s to the hunting gone and I hope he’ll never return;
    And you shall sleep into his bed and keep his lady warm.”

    “There’s nothing for to fear, Musgrave, you nothing have to fear.
    I’ll set a page outside the gates to watch till morning clear.”

    And woe be to the little footpage and an ill death may he die,
    For he’s away to the greenwood as fast as he could fly.

    And when he came to the wide water he fell on his belly and swam,
    And when he came to the other side he took to his heels and ran.

    And when he came to the greenwood, ’twas dark as dark can be,
    And he found Lord Barnard and his men a-sleeping ‘neath the trees.

    “Rise up, rise up, master,” he said, “Rise up and speak to me.
    Your wife’s in bed with the little Musgrave, rise up right speedily.”

    “If this be truth you tell to me then gold shall be your fee,
    And if it be false you tell to me then hanged you shall be.”

    “Go saddle me the black,” he said, “Go saddle me the grey,
    And sound you not the horn,” said he, “Lest our coming it would betray.”

    Now there was a man in Lord Barnard’s train who loved the little Musgrave,
    And he blew his horn both loud and shrill: “Away, Musgrave, away.”

    “Oh, I think I hear the morning cock, I think I hear the jay,
    I think I hear Lord Barnard’s horn: Away, Musgrave, away.”

    “Oh, lie still, lie still, you little Musgrave, and keep me from the cold.
    It’s nothing but a shepherd boy driving his flock to the fold.

    Is not your hawk upon its perch, your steed has eaten hay,
    And you a gay lady in your arms and yet you would away.”

    So he’s turned him right and round about and he fell fast asleep,
    And when he woke Lord Barnard’s men were standing at his feet.

    “And how do you like my bed, Musgrave, and how do you like my sheets?
    And how do you like my fair lady that lies in your arms asleep?”

    “Oh, it’s well I like your bed,” he said, “And well I like your sheets,
    And better I like your fair lady that lies in me arms asleep.”

    “Well get up, get up, young man,” he said, “Get up as swift you can,
    For it never will be said in my country I slew an unarmed man.

    I have two swords in one scabbard, full dear they cost me purse,
    And you shall have the best of them and I shall have the worse.”

    And so slowly, so slowly, he rose up and slowly he put on,
    And slowly down the stairs he goes a-thinking to be slain.

    The first stroke little Musgrave took it was both deep and sore,
    And down he fell at Barnard’s feet and word he never spoke more.

    “And how do you like his cheeks, lady, and how do you like his chin?
    And how do you like his fair body now there’s no life within?”

    “Oh, it’s well I like his cheeks,” she said, “And well I like his chin.
    And better I like his fair body than all your kith and kin.”

    And he’s taken up his long, long sword to strike a mortal blow,
    And through and through the lady’s heart the cold steel it did go.

    As it fell out upon a day, as many in the year,
    Musgrave to the church did go to see fair ladies there.

    Acknowledgements

    Transcribed from the singing of Martin Carthy by Garry Gillard.

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    Edward

    Edward

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    The Ancient Ballads

    Edward

    Edward

    by John Fitzsimmons | The American Folk Experience

    Child Ballad #13

    What makes that blood on the point of your knife?
    My son, now tell to me
    It is the blood of my old grey mare
    Who plowed the fields for me, me, me
    Who plowed the fields for me.

    It is too red for your old grey mare
    My son, now tell to me
    It is the blood of my old coon dog
    Who chased the fox for me, me me
    Who chased the fox for me.

    It is too red for your old coon dog
    My son, now tell to me
    It is the blood of my brother John
    Who hoed the corn for me, me, me
    Who hoed the corn for me.

    What did you fall out about?
    My son, now tell to me
    Because he cut yon holly bush
    Which might have been a tree, tree, tree
    Which might have been a tree.

    What will you say when your father comes back
    When he comes home from town?
    I’ll set my foot in yonder boat
    And sail the ocean round, round, round
    I’ll sail the ocean round.

    When will you come back, my own dear son?
    My son, now tell to me
    When the sun it sets in yonder sycamore tree
    And that will never be, be, be
    And that will never be.

    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. 

    I share their research on my site with humility, thanks, and gratitude. Please cite their work accordingly with your own research. If you have any research or sites you would like to share on this site, please post in the comment box.  Thanks!

    "Edward" is a traditional murder ballad existing in several variants, categorised by Francis James Child as Child Ballad number 13[1] and listed as number 200 in the Roud Folk Song Index. The ballad, which is at least 250 years old (a text of its Swedish counterpart has been dated to the mid-17th century[2]), has been documented and recorded numerous times across the English speaking world into the twentieth century.

    Synopsis

    A mother questions her son about the blood on his "sword" (most likely a hunting knife, given the era when the story is occurring). He avoids her interrogation at first, claiming that it is his hawk or his horse (or some other kind of animal depending on the variation of the song), but finally admits that it is his brother, or his father, whom he has killed. He declares that he is leaving and will never return, and various creatures (wife, children, livestock) will have to fare without him. His mother then asks what she will get from his departure. He answers "a curse from hell" and implicates his mother in the murder.

    Traditional recordings

    Several Appalachian musicians recorded the ballad; Jean Ritchie sang the Ritchie family version in 1946 with her sister (recorded by Mary Elizabeth Barnacle)[3] and in 1961 on the album Jean Ritchie: Ballads from her Appalachian Family Tradition,[4] whilst Bascom Lamar Lunsford (1935),[5] Horton Barker (1941),[6] and Almeida Riddle (1972)[7] also had their traditional versions recorded. The children's writer Edith Ballinger Price was recorded by Helen Hartness Flanders performing a traditional version in 1945.[8]

    The song was recorded a handful of times in England; Mike Yates recorded Frank Hinchliffe of Sheffield, Yorkshire singing his version in 1977[9] and Danny Brazil of Gloucestershire singing a different version the following year.[10] George Dunn of Quarry Bank, Staffordshire was recorded by Roy Parmer singing another version in 1971, which can be heard online via the Vaughan Williams Memorial Library.[11]

    In Scotland, the song was generally known as "My Son David". Recordings were made of traditional Scottish traveller Jeannie Robertson (1953),[12][13] her nephew Stanley Robertson (1987)[14] and daughter Lizzie Higgins (1970)[15] singing the ballad; Lizzie Higgins' recording publicly available on the Vaughan Williams Memorial Library website.[15]

    Irish traditional singers such as Thomas Moran of Mohill, Co. Leitrim (1954),[16] John "Jacko" Reilly of Boyle, Co. Roscommon (1967),[17] Paddy Tunney of Co. Fermanagh (1976)[18] and Christy Moore of Co. Kildare were also recorded singing versions of the ballad. Versions collected orally in Ireland are usually named "What Put the Blood" or something similar. Tunney's version, for example, (released on his Folk-Legacy CD The Man of Songs) was entitled "What put the Blood on Your Right Shoulder, Son?"[19]

    Parallels

    This ballad may not be complete in itself. Large portions of the ballad are also found in the longer ballads "The Twa Brothers" (Child 49) and "Lizie Wan" (Child 51).[20]

    Parallels in other languages

    This ballad type was also found in Northern Europe, where it is often known under "Svend i Rosensgård" or a similar name. Its general Scandinavian classification is TSB D 320, and it is known in Danish (DgF 340), Icelandic (IFkv 76), Norwegian, and Swedish (SMB 153). In Finland, it is popular as "Poikani Poloinen", both as a poem and as a song, first published in the collection Kanteletar.

    In the Scandinavian versions, and the Finnish one, the stress is more on the gradual divulge of the fact that the son will never return home to his mother.

    Percy's "Edward"

    The authenticity of one popular version of this ballad (Child 13B) has been called into question.[21] This version originally appeared in print in Bishop Thomas Percy's 1765 edition of Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. Percy reported that he received this Scottish ballad from Sir David Dalrymple, who said he heard it from an unnamed lady. This version appears inauthentic because it seems, in short, too "good": it makes exceptional use of literary devices for maximum impact. Moreover, unlike most other versions, the father is the victim rather than the brother, and the mother receives a curse at the end. There is also little evidence that this version was disseminated orally; it seems to have appeared most often in print form. The name "Edward" appears to have come from Percy's version; versions which seem to have existed independently of Percy's don't use this name for the protagonist.[22]

    Adaptations

    See also

    References

    1. ^ Francis James Child, English and Scottish Popular Ballads, "Edward"
    2. ^ Jonsson, Bengt R., ed. (1983–1996). Sveriges medeltida ballader (in Swedish). Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell. p. 160. ISBN 91-22-01733-X. Retrieved 13 November 2022.
    3. ^ "Edward (Roud Folksong Index S273288)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    4. ^ "Jean Ritchie: Ballads from her Appalachian Family Tradition". Smithsonian Folkways Recordings. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    5. ^ "Edward (Roud Folksong Index S259329)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    6. ^ "Edward (Roud Folksong Index S397837)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    7. ^ "The Blood of the Old Rooster (Roud Folksong Index S169512)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    8. ^ "Edward (Roud Folksong Index S233995)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    9. ^ "Edward (Roud Folksong Index S340552)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    10. ^ "Edward (Roud Folksong Index S340575)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    11. ^ "Edward (Roud Folksong Index S233987)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    12. ^ "Edward (Roud Folksong Index S174287)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    13. ^ "Son David (Roud Folksong Index S161735)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    14. ^ "My Son David (Roud Folksong Index S433934)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    15. ^ a b "Son David (Roud Folksong Index S304847)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    16. ^ "Edward (Roud Folksong Index S233972)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    17. ^ "What Put the Blood (Roud Folksong Index S255692)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    18. ^ "What Brought the Blood (Roud Folksong Index S165011)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 2020-11-20.
    19. ^ "O'er his grave the grass grew green", Tragic Ballads, The Voice of the People vol. 3, Topic TSCD 653 (1975)
    20. ^ Francis James Child, The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, vol. 1, p. 167, Dover Publications, New York 1965
    21. ^ Most notable is Bertrand Bronson in "Edward, Edward. A Scottish Ballad and a Footnote," in The Ballad as Song (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1969).
    22. ^ "The Yorkshire Garland Group". www.yorkshirefolksong.net. Retrieved 2020-12-31.
    23. ^ John Reilly, Topic 12T 359, 1969 ("The Bonny Green Tree")
    24. ^ Folktrax 175-C60 ("John Reilly"), 1967
    25. ^ "Six Duets (Шесть дуэтов)", Tchaikovsky Research

      Source: Mainly Norfolk

      Edward / My Son David / Henry

      Roud 200 ; Child 13 ; TYG 35 ; Ballad Index C013 ; trad.]Jeannie Robertson sang My Son David to Alan Lomax in London in November 1953. This recording was included in 1961 on the Tradition Records LPHeather and Glen and in 1998 on the Rounder CD The Queen Among the Heather. Another recording made by Peter Kennedy was included in 1955 on the HMV LP Folk Song Today.

      Angela Brazil, Weenie Brazil, and Alice Webb’s son sang three versions of Son Come Tell It Unto Me in recordings made in 1954, 1955 and 1968. They were all included in 2007 on the Brazil Family’s Musical Tradition anthology Down By the Old Riverside. The accompanying booklet commented:

      This was also sung by Lemmie, Alice, Danny and Tom [Brazil], so it could be considered the family’s favourite song. One of the most striking things about these recordings of a significant number of singers from one family, is that—given the slight variations of text and melody from one singer to another—it seems fairly clear that all family members got their songs from one source; most likely their parents, or even grandparents.

      Son Come Tell It Unto Me is unusual in that here we have three completely different tunes to the same song from three singers; Weenie’s is essentially the Family one, whilst Angela’s and young Mr Webb’s are not. (…)

      This is a very popular song with 236 Roud entries, of which 59 are sound recordings. The great majority are from the USA (148 entries) and Scotland (46 entries). Only 4 other singers from England are named.

      Danny Brazil sang another version, called The Two Turtle Doves, to Mike Yates in Gloucester in 1979. This was printed in 2006 in Yates EFDSS book of songs of English and Scottish travellers and gypsies, Traveller’s Joy.

      Ewan MacColl sang My Son David in 1956 on his and A.L. Lloyd’s Riverside anthology The English and Scottish Popular Ballads (The Child Ballads) Volume II. This song and 28 other from this series were reissued in 2009 on his Topic double CD set Ballads: Murder·Intrigue·Love·Discord. Kenneth S. Goldstein commented in the album’s booklet:

      The high esteem in which Child held this ballad is indicated by the statement in his introductory notes: “Edward … has ever been regarded as one of the noblest and most sterling specimens of the popular ballad.” Such praise is entirely deserved, for the ballad, employing throughout a simple dialogue device, builds to a climatic emotional peak unsurpassed in any other Child ballad.

      The ballad is known in the Northern countries of Europe, the dialogue form being maintained in every instance. Since Child’s time, most reported texts do not implicate the mother in the crime, which in almost every case is fratricide (rather than patricide as in the Child “B” text). Archer Taylor, in his full-length study of the ballad, feels the fratricide factor relates recent findings to the earliest Scandinavian forms of the ballad, whence the English versions stem.

      The ballad has been collected rather frequently in America; until recently it had been unreported in Britain for many years.

      MacColl’s version was learned from Jeannie Robertson, housewife and former tinker from Aberdeen.

      The anthology The Child Ballads 1: The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Numbers 2-95 (The Folk Songs of Britain Volume 4; Caedmon 1961; Topic 1968) has a track of Edward / My Son David that is patched up of verses from Jeannie Robertson, Paddy Tunney, and Angela Brazil.

      Norman Kennedy sang My Son David in 1965 on the Topic LP New Voices from Scotland.

      John Reilly sang What Put the Blood? to Tom Munnelly in his own home in Dublin in Winter 1967. This recording was released ten years later on his Topic album The Bonny Green Tree: Songs of an Irish Traveller.

      Lizzie Higgins sang My Son David in a 1970 recording in Aberdeen made by Allie Munro. This was published on the 2006 Musical Traditions anthology In Memory of Lizzie Higgins. Rod Stradling commented in the album’s booklet:

      This old ballad is almost universally called Edward (or something similar), and the Son David title appears only in Scotland. (…) When Hamish Henderson ‘discovered’ Jeannie Robertson in 1953 and demonstrated her repertoire to the world, this particular ballad caused a sensation amongst scholars, as it had been thought to have been completely lost from the oral traditions for well over a hundred years, and caused the rest of her repertoire to be examined with the greatest of interest. (…) Considering this very much her mother’s song, requiring Jeannie’s “big classical ballad” style, Lizzie nevertheless went on to perform it after her death.

      Nic Jones, accompanying himself on fiddle, sang the grisly dialogue Edward in 1971 on his eponymous second album, Nic Jones. He commented in the album notes:

      This is more or less a version of a large group of songs under the various titles of EdwardLizzie WanLucy WanWhat Blood is This?, etc. In this version the whole incident turns on the seemingly irrelevant statement:

      It’s all about a little holly bush
      That might have made a tree.

      The lines are possibly explained by a glance at some of the other versions, where the son has made love to his sister and subsequently killed her when she turns out to be pregnant. The holly bush could reasonably represent some kind of guarded reference to this incident; the incident itself having been excluded from the song.

      John Wesley Harding also sang this song on his Nic Jones tribute album, Trad Arr Jones.

      George Dunn sang Edward in a recording made by Bill Leader in December 1971 on his eponymous 1973 Leader album, George Dunn. Another fragment of this song, recorded by Roy Palmer on December 3, 1971 was included in 2002 on Dunn’s Musical Tradition anthology Chainmaker.

      Isabel Sutherland sang Son Davie on her eponymous 1974 EFDSS album, Isabel Sutherland.

      Paddy Tunney sang What Brought the Blood? with quite a different story-line on his 1976 Topic album, The Flowery Vale. This track was also included in 1998 on the Topic anthology O’er His Grave the Grass Grew Green (The Voice of the People Volume 3). Another version of What Put the Blood?, sung by Mary Delaney, is on volume 17 of this series, It Fell on a Day, a Bonny Summer Day. Cathal Ó Baoill commented in Tunney’s album’s sleeve notes:

      In this old English ballad we are given a slight clue as to a possible background of the story when Paddy sings, “all through mother’s treachery”.

      In the version I heard from Frank Quinn on the Lough Neagh Shore the involvement of the mother was never mentioned in the text, so that the whole tale of her guile and her hidden desire for the inheritance of both her sons had to be told as a preliminary to the singing. Different versions suggest different motives, but in any case the story of how the boy is driven away from home to avoid his father’s anger is clear enough in every version. The Lough Neagh version also included a localising verse which said,

      What will you do in the winter of your life,
      Like a saggin on the Lough I’ll bow with the wind.

      Frank Hinchliffe sang Edward on his 1977 Topic album of traditional songs from South Yorkshire, In Sheffield Park.

      Steeleye Span recorded Edward with somewhat changed lyrics courtesy of Bob Johnson in 1986 for their album Back in Line. A live recording from The Forum, London on September 2, 1995 was released on the CD The Journey.

      Chris Coe sang Edward in 2001 on her Backshift CD A Wiser Fool.

      Kieron Means sang Edward in 2003 on his Tradition Bearers CD of North American songs and ballads, Run Mountain. His mother Sara Grey commented in the album’s notes:

      From the singing of Donal McGuire, a great singer from Ireland who has lived for several years in East Lancashire, England. It is the biblical parable of Cain and Abel. It has never been regarded as one of the best examples of popular ballads, it’s more like a detached part of a ballad rather than a complete one. It is known to have Finnish and Swedish counterparts. These Scandinavian versions are closer to the American ones but the ‘Edward’ story was too strong for Americans. The mother had no part in the crime, as she did in Scottish versions. There’s no more powerful ending in a ballad than the final realisation that the mother helped in or committed the murder of her son. Being ‘put to sea’ was a medieval punishment for fratricide.

      The Demon Barbers learned Edward from Nic Jones’ Trailer album and sang it in 2005 on their CD Waxed.

      Jeana Leslie and Siobhan Miller sang Edward in 2008 on their Greentrax CD In a Bleeze.

      Al O’Donnell sang What Put the Blood? in 2008 on his CD Ramble Away.

      Rubus sang My Son David in 2008 on their CD Nine Witch Knots. Emily Portman commented in their liner notes:

      Perhaps the sequel to Rolling of the Stones, here a mother gradually uncovers the truth about the origin of the blood on her son’s sword. I imagine that this mother already knows what has happened, as mothers often do. The incomparable Louis Killen gave me this song, whose own source is Jeannie Robertson.

      Nick Wyke & Becki Driscoll sang Edward on their 2009 CD Beneath the Black Tree.

      Alasdair Roberts sang What Put the Blood on Your Right Shoulder, Son? in 2010 on his CD Too Long in This Condition.

      June Tabor and Jon Jones sang My Son David in 2011 on her and the Oysterband’s second collaboration, Ragged Kingdom. Their sleeve notes commented:

      From the singing of Margaret Stewart of Aberdeen. Long thought to be preserved only in Scandinavian and American traditions, this ancient ballad of mindless violence, fratricide ad exile was found to be treasured still by Travellers.

      This video shows them on Later with Jools Holland on May 18, 2012:

      Fay Hield sang this ballad as Henry in 2012 on her CD with the Hurricane Party, Orfeo. She commented in her liner notes:

      More commonly known as Edward, or in Scotland My Son David, this song is pretty unusual for being entirely developed through dialogue. It’s not a song I’ve been attracted to before, perhaps because of the lack of direct action. However, I wrote this version to fit a tune I’ve been humming which I felt needed a repetitive lyric to complement it. The tune is Mandad ei Comigo, from the Codax manuscripts of 13th century Spain. The longer I spent with the song, the deeper it began to affect me and what I could once switch off as tediously repetitive I now struggle to reach the end of without a catch in my throat. It’s intensely powerful to take the role of the mother and discover, during the course of a conversation, that you have lost your daughter, your unborn grandchild, and that there is no other choice than for your son to leave for an unknown destiny. Then, consider the twisted feelings of anguish she must be feeling towards all of these people as a result of their activities. An incredible song, essentially delivered through just one line of text: “It’s the blood of my sister dear, she would have my baby.”

      Jeff Davis sang Edward in 2013 on his and Brian Peters’ CD of songs collected by Cecil Sharp in the Appalachian Mountains, Sharp’s Appalachian Harvest. Sharp collected this version from Jane Gentry of Hot Springs, North Carolina, on August 24, 1916.

      Lyrics

      Jeannie Robertson sings My Son David Nic Jones sings Edward
      “O what’s the blood that’s on your sword,
      My son David, O son David?
      What’s the blood it’s on your sword?
      Come promise, tell me true.”“O that’s the blood of my grey mair,
      Hey lady mother, ho lady mother;
      That’s the blood of my grey mair,
      Because it widnae rule my me.”
      “What’s that blood all on your shirt?
      Son, come tell to me.”
      “Oh, that’s the blood of my own grey hound,
      He wouldn’t run with me, with me,
      He wouldn’t run with me.”
      “O that blood it is owre clear,
      My son David, O son David;
      That blood it is owre clear,
      Come promise, tell me true.”“O that’s the blood of my grey hound,
      Hey lady mother, ho lady mother;
      That’s the blood of my grey hound,
      Because it widnae rule my me.”“O that blood it is owre clear,
      My son David, O son David;
      That blood it is owre clear,
      Come promise, tell me true.”“O that’s the blood of my huntin’ haak,
      Hey lady mother, ho lady mother;
      That’s the blood of my huntin’ haak,
      Because it widnae rule my me.”
      “Oh it’s too pale for your greyhound’s blood,
      Son, come tell to me.”
      “It is the blood of my own grey mare,
      He wouldn’t hunt with me, with me,
      He wouldn’t hunt with me.”
      “O that blood it is owre clear,
      My son David, O son David;
      That blood it is owre clear,
      Come promise, tell me true.”“O that’s the blood of my brother John,
      Hey lady mother, ho lady mother;
      That’s the blood of my brother John,
      Because he drew his sword tae me.
      “Oh it’s too red for your grey mare’s blood,
      Son, come tell to me.”
      “Well, it’s the blood of me own dear brother,
      He wouldn’t ride with me, with me,
      He wouldn’t ride with me.”
      “And what were you all quarrelling about?
      Son, come tell to me.”
      “Oh it’s all about a little holly bush
      And it might have made a tree, a tree,
      It might have made a tree.”
      “I’m gaun awa’ in a bottomless boat,
      In a bottomless boat, in a bottomless boat,
      But I’m gaun awa’ in a bottomless boat,
      And I’ll ne’er return again.”
      “And what will you do when your father comes to know?
      Son, come tell to me.”
      “Oh, I’ll set sail in a little sailing boat,
      I’ll sail across the sea, the sea,
      I’ll sail across the sea.”
      “And what will you do with your pretty little wife?
      Son, come tell to me.”
      “Oh she’ll sail along in my little sailing boat,
      She’ll sail along with me, with me,
      She’ll sail along with me.”
      “And what will you do with your eldest son?
      Son, come tell to me.”
      Oh I’ll leave him here for you to raise,
      Rock all-upon your knee, your knee,
      To rock all-upon your knee.”
      “O whan will you come back again
      My son David, O son David?
      Whan will you come back again?
      Come promise, tell me true.”“When the sun and the moon meets in yon glen,
      Hey lady mother, ho lady mother;
      When the sun and the moon meets in yon glen,
      For I’ll return again.”
      “And when will you come back again?
      Son, come tell to me.”
      When the sun and the moon there on yonder hill,
      I know that will never never be, never be,
      Know that will never never be.”
      Steeleye Span sing Edward Fay Hield sings Henry
      “What’s that blood upon your sword, Edward?”
      “’Tis the blood of my grey mare.”
      “Your grey mare’s blood was never that red, Edward,
      You’re telling lies, telling lies.”“What’s that blood upon your sword, Edward?”
      “’Tis the blood of my greyhound.”
      “Greyhound’s blood was never that red, Edward,
      You’re telling lies, telling lies.”“What’s that blood upon your sword, Edward?”
      “’Tis the blood of my great hawk.”
      “Great hawk’s blood was never that red, Edward,
      You’re telling lies.”

      Chorus
      And the sun will never shine, Edward,
      And the moon has lost his light.
      And the sun will never shine, Edward,
      You’re telling lies, telling lies.

      “What’s that blood upon your sword, Edward?”
      “It is the blood of my brother.”
      “Why did you kill your own brother, Edward?
      You’re telling lies, telling lies.”

      Chorus

      What will you do, where will you go, Edward?
      What will you do, how will you live?”
      “I’ll sail away, I’ll sail away, Mother,
      And you’ll never see more of me.”

      “What of your wife, what of your son, Edward?
      And what will you leave to your mother dear?”
      “The curse of Hell to burn her with, Mother
      But telling lies, telling lies.”

      Chorus

      “Oh what is the blood on your shirt sleeve?
      Oh my son Henry, come tell unto me.”
      “It’s the blood of my grey hound;
      He would not run for me.”“Oh that’s not the blood of your greyhound,
      Oh my son Henry, don’t lie unto me.
      It would be a far redder blood,
      This can never be.“Oh what is the blood on your shirt sleeve?
      Oh my son Henry, come tell unto me.”
      “It’s the blood of my grey mare;
      She would not ride for me.”“Oh that’s not the blood of your grey mare,
      Oh my son Henry, don’t lie unto me.
      It’d be a far darker red,
      This can never be.“Oh what is the blood on your shirt sleeve?
      Oh my son Henry, come tell unto me.”
      “It’s the blood of my goshawk;
      He would not hunt for me.”“Oh that’s not the blood of your goshawk,
      Oh my son Henry, don’t lie unto me.
      It’d be a far thicker blood,
      This can never be.“Oh what is the blood on your shirt sleeve?
      Oh my son Henry, come tell unto me.”
      “It’s the blood of my sister dear;
      She would have my baby.“Oh set me a boat on the ocean,
      Set it to sail over all the seven seas.
      I must die for the love of
      My sister and me.”
      Paddy Tunney sings What Put the Blood?
      “Where have you been the whole day long?
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “I was fishing and fowling the whole day long
      All through mother’s treachery, all through mother’s treachery.”“What put the blood on your right shoulder?
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “’Twas the killing of a hare, that I killed today,
      That I killed right manfully, that I killed right manfully.”“The blood of the old hare it could never be so red.
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “’Twas the killing of a boy, that I killed today,
      That I killed most manfully, that I killed most manfully.”“What came between yourself and the boy?
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “It was mostly the cutting of a rod
      That would never come a tree, that would never come a tree.”“What are you going to do when your daddy finds out?
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “I will put my foot on board a ship
      And sail to a foreign country, and sail to a foreign country.”“What are you going to do with your lovely young wife?
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “She can put her foot on board of a ship
      And sail e’er after me, and sail e’er after me.”“What are you going to do with your two fine young babes?
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “I’ll give one to my father and the other to my mother
      For to bear them company, for to bear them company.”“What are you going to do with your two fine racehorses?
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “I will take the bridles off their necks
      For they’ll run for more for me, they’ll run for more for me.”“What are you going to do with your two fine greyhounds?
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “I will take the leads all off their necks
      For they’ll run for more for me, they’ll run for more for me.”“What are you going to do with your houses and your lands?
      Son, come tell it unto me.”
      “I will lay them bare to the birds on the air
      For there is no more welcome there for me, there’s no more welcome there for me.”

      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
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      “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

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      “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…

       

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      Ballad Mongering, Folksinger, Teacher, & Poet…”

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      Practice Doing

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      The Gift Unclaimed

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      Many Miles To Go

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      and in the ways you try to smile;
      in the ways you whisper—I don’t know—
      and put it all off for a while;
      then you keep on keeping on
      in the only way you know:
      you’re scared of where you’re going
      and who’ll catch you down below.

      Somewhere North of Bangor

      Somewhere north of Bangor
      on the run from Tennessee.
      Lost in back scrub paper land
      in section TR-3.
      It’s hit him he’s an outlaw
      a Georgia cracker’s son,
      who killed a man in Nashville
      with his daddies favorite gun.
      It’s hit him with the loneliness
      of wondering where you are
      on a long ago railway
      stretched between two stars.

      Why Trump Is Not Flipping Me Out

      I wonder why Trump is not flipping me out? I wonder if there is some bigoted, ignorant and right-wing element that lurks inside this folk-singing, poem writing, neo-socialist shell of mine. Maybe it is not that hard for me to make the empathetic reach to feel at least...

      A Late Night Metacognition

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      The Silver Apples of the Moon.

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      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...

      Weekend Custody

      Jesse calls up this morning—
      “You can come downstairs now;
      You see the grapefruit bowl?
      Well, I fixed it all;
      I fixed everything for you.”

      Everything’s for you…

      “Let me help you make the coffee,
      Momma says you drink it too.
      I can’t reach the stove,
      But I can pour it, though—
      What’s it like living alone?”

      In Reply To Einstein

      *God casts the die, not the dice. ~Alfred Einstein I am cold down the neck, turtling my head to showers of ice that fall dancing and skidding on skins of crusted snow. I hold my breath when I step, inflating hopes of a weightlessness, and so be undetected
to the play...

      Diesel Lullaby

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      Out of the Forge: April 13, 2017

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             One good cigar is better than two bad cigars, or so it seems right now. It is a beautiful and stormy night--pouring rain and howling wind, and I thought a good smoke would be a fitting end to a busy and over-booked week. As it goes, I bought a couple of cheap...

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      China Journal: Part Two

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      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?

      Life Outside the Curriculum

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      Dad

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      But I’m damn pleased your coming by again.
      It’s been a while since we sat down and rambled
      About this and that and why and who and then
      You said that you had to get a move on,
      Move on and leave a space behind.
      So I spent a while hitting all those old roads:
      Old friends and kicking down the wine.

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      Wisdom

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      Contact Fitz!

      The Unquiet Grave

      The Unquiet Grave

      The Ancient Ballads

      The Unquiet Grave

      The Unquiet Grave

      by John Fitzsimmons | The American Folk Experience

      Child Ballad #78

      Cold blows the wind to my true love,
      And gently falls the rain.
      I’ve never had but one true love,
      And in green-wood he lies slain.

      I’ll do as much for my true love,
      As any young girl may,
      I’ll sit and mourn all on his grave,
      For twelve months and a day.

      And when twelve months and a day was passed,
      The ghost did rise and speak,
      “why sittest thou all on my grave
      And will no let me sleep?”

      “Go fetch me water from the desert,
      And blood from out the stone,
      Go fetch me milk from a fair maid’s breast
      That young man never has known.”

      “My breast is cold as the clay,
      My breath is earthly strong,
      And if you kiss my cold clay lips,
      Your days they won’t be long.”

      “How oft on yonder grave, sweetheart,
      Where we were want to walk,
      The fairest flower that e’er I saw
      Has withered to a stalk.”

      “when will we meet again, sweetheart,
      When will we meet again?”
      “when the autumn leaves that fall from the trees
      Are green and spring up again.”

      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

      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. 

      I share their research on my site with humility, thanks, and gratitude. Please cite their work accordingly with your own research. If you have any research or sites you would like to share on this site, please post in the comment box.  Thanks!

      Edit links

      "The Unquiet Grave" is an Irish / English folk song in which a young man's grief over the death of his true love is so deep that it disturbs her eternal sleep. It was collected in 1868 by Francis James Child as Child Ballad number 78.[1] One of the more common tunes used for the ballad is the same as that used for the English ballad "Dives and Lazarus" and the Irish pub favorite "Star of the County Down".

      Synopsis

      A man mourns his true love for "a twelve month and a day". At the end of that time, the dead woman complains that his weeping is keeping her from peaceful rest. He begs a kiss. She tells him it would kill him. When he persists, wanting to join her in death, she explains that once they are both dead their hearts will simply decay, so he should enjoy life while he has it.

      Variants

      The version noted by Cecil Sharp[2] ends with "When will we meet again? / When the autumn leaves that fall from the trees / Are green and spring up again."

      Many verses in this ballad have parallels in other ballads: Bonny Bee Hom, Sweet William's Ghost and some variants of The Twa Brothers.[3]

      Return of the dead

      The motif that excessive grief can disturb the dead is found also in German and Scandinavian ballads, as well as Greek and Roman traditions.[4]

      In 1941 the "Journal of the English Folk Dance and Song Society" Vol 4 no 2 included a long essay by Ruth Harvey. She compares motifs from "The Unquiet Grave" with other European ballads, including "Es ging ein Knab spazieren (Der tote Freier)" from Germany, and "Faestemanden I Graven" from Denmark.[5] She writes: "It is only inevitable that a song which certainly goes back to pre-Christian traditions should have suffered modification during the centuries."[6]

      The Danish ballad "Faestemanden I Graven" was made into a short film, "Aage og Else" (1983).[7] Though not recorded till the nineteenth century, “The Unquiet Grave,” as a folk work, may date to the same period as those two seventeenth-century ballads. On the Fresno State University website, Robert B Waltz compares "The Unquiet Grave" with an older carol, "There blows a cold wind today," in the Bodleian Library MS 7683 (dated ca. 1500), but adds: "I must say that I find this a stretch; the similarities are slight indeed."[8]

      Recordings

      • The composer Ralph Vaughan Williams wrote several arrangements for "How Cold the Wind doth Blow (or The Unquiet Grave)". The best known, from 1912, is for piano, violin and voice. It was recorded in 1976 by Sir Philip Ledger, Hugh Bean and Robert Tear. Catalogue It also appears on the 1989 recording Songs of Britten and Vaughan Williams by Canadian baritone Kevin McMillan.
      • Kate Rusby, Rebsie Fairholm, Carol Noonan, Joan Baez, the Dubliners, Solas, Barbara Dickson, Shirley Collins, Circulus, David Pajo, Fire + Ice and Sarah Calderwood have recorded versions of this song.
      • A single-movement viola concerto by Australian composer Andrew Ford used the melody of the ballad as its foundation. Written in 1997, the concerto is pieced together from melodic fragments of the ballad and it is only in the final few minutes that the full theme emerges.
      • The Pennsylvania-based alternative rock band Ween recorded a version of the song (retitled "Cold Blows the Wind") on their 1997 album, The Mollusk. The liner notes jokingly describe the song as a traditional Chinese spiritual.
      • The gothic/darkwave band Faith and the Muse recorded a version on their debut Elyria in 1994.
      • It was recorded and released as a duet between Ian Read and Ysanne Spevack in 2000, distributed by Tesco in Germany, and pressed up on blue vinyl with a letterpress gatefold cover under the band name Fire + Ice.[9]
      • The folk-rock group Steeleye Span recorded a version on their 2009 album Cogs, Wheels and Lovers.
      • Electro noir artist Alien Skin, formerly with Real Life (of '80s "Send Me An Angel" fame), recorded a version on his 2010 album The Unquiet Grave.
      • Orcadian singer Kris Drever recorded a version of this song to music of his own on Lau's album Lightweights and Gentlemen in 2009.
      • The eleven-piece folk band Bellowhead recorded a cover of Ween's version ("Cold Blows the Wind") for their 2010 album Hedonism.
      • An electronic arrangement by Vladislav Korolev was sung by Lori Joachim Fredrics and premiered on April 13, 2013.
      • The German electronica/darkwave band Helium Vola included a rendition on their 2013 album, Wohin?.
      • British folk singer/songwriter Elliott Morris included an arrangement of "Unquiet Grave" on his 2013 EP, Shadows and Whispers.
      • British medieval folk-rock band Gryphon recorded their interpretation of the ballad using the Dives and Lazarus melody on their 1973 debut album, Gryphon.
      • English progressive rock musician Steven Wilson recorded an arrangement of the song. It was the B-Side to "Cover version IV", one of a series of six singles, each consisting of a cover of a song written by another artist as the A-side, with the B-sides consisting of original songs (with the exception of "The Unquiet Grave"). The six cover versions and corresponding B-sides were released together on a compilation album, Cover Version, in 2014.
      • Part of the song was performed by Helen McCrory in the Penny Dreadful episode "Fresh Hell", and again by Sarah Greene in "And They Were Enemies".
      • The Ghosts of Johnson City recorded a version of the song for their 2015 album Am I Born To Die?
      • Daoirí Farrell recorded a version of the song on his 2016 album "True Born Irishman"
      • Joan Baez sings it on three albums:
      • House and Land interpret the song as their final track on their self-titled 2017 album.
      • The English folk duo The Askew Sisters recorded the ballad on their 2014 album In the Air or the Earth.
      • The Spanish dark pagan folk band Trobar de Morte recorded a version of the song on their eighth studio album The Book of Shadows in 2020.
      • Irish singers Pauline Scanlon and Damien Dempsey performed a six and a half minute duet on Scanlon's 2022 album, The Unquiet.
      • American Pine Barrens folk band Jackson Pines recorded their interpretation for their album Pine Barrens Vol. 1 in 2023. The ballad was connected to a lost town called Colliers Mills in their hometown of Jackson, NJ by song-catcher Herbert Halpert in 1936. Allen Clevenger of Wrightstown sang it to him and said his mother-in-law Mrs. Grover nee Cotter sang it in Colliers Mills as a girl.
      • Canadian Celtic/Polka Punk Band The Dreadnoughts released a version of the song on March 14, 2023.

      References

      1. ^ Francis James Child, Scottish and English Popular Ballads, "The Unquiet Grave"
      2. ^ Cecil J. Sharp (Ed) (1975) One Hundred English Folksongs (For Medium Voice), Dover, ISBN 0-486-23192-5
      3. ^ Francis James Child, The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, v 2, p 234, Dover Publications, New York 1965
      4. ^ Francis James Child, The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, v 2, p 234-6, Dover Publications, New York 1965
      5. ^ Zachcial, Michael (13 February 1856). "Herr". Deutsche Volkslieder. Müller-Lüdenscheidt-Verlag. Retrieved 31 October 2022.
      6. ^ Matteson, Richard. "Mr". Bluegrassmessengers. Blugreass Messengers. Retrieved 31 October 2022.
      7. ^ Thomsen, Knud Leif. "Aage og Else". IMDB. ImdbPro. Retrieved 31 October 2022.
      8. ^ Waltz, Robert. "Unquiet Grave, The [Child 78]". Traditional Ballad Index. Fresno State University. Retrieved 31 October 2022.
      9. ^ "Death in June / Fire + Ice - We Said Destroy". Discogs.

        Source: Mainly Norfolk

        The Unquiet Grave / Cold Blows the Wind

        Roud 51 ; Child 78 ; Ballad Index C078 ; Bodleian Roud 51 ; Wiltshire Roud 51 ; trad.]A.L. Lloyd sang The Unquiet Grave in 1956 on his and Ewan MacColl’s Riverside album of Child ballads, The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Volume I. Editor Kenneth G. Goldstein wrote in the album’s booklet:

        Aside from its exquisite poety and music, this ballad is notable for its exhibition of the universal popular belief that excessive grief on the part of mourners disturbes the peace of the dead.

        It is possible that this is only a fragment of a once popular longer ballad. In the form we have it today, no text has been reported earlier than the 19thcentury. The ballad is little known in Scotland and is quite rare in America. It is still current in England, however.

        The text and tune sung by A.L. Lloyd were collected by Cecil Sharp from William Spearing of Ile Bruers, Somerset, excepting the last two stanzas, which were from Mrs. William Ree of Hambridge, Somerset.

        See Child (78), Volume II, p. 78ff; Coffin, p.82; Dean-Smith, p.113.

        Shirley Collins recorded this ballad in 1959 for her second LP, False True Lovers, a second time for her Collector EP English Songs Vol. 1, and a third time in 1967 for her album The Power of the True Love Knot. She commented in the first album’s notes:

        From Cecil Sharp’s English Folk Songs. This is one of the classic pieces of English folk song literature. From one point of view it is a feminine fantasy or a wish, perhaps for the death of a lover, perhaps for a way of arranging a night visit by the lover, perhaps for a way of showing how strong her love is, perhaps of a feeling of guilt. Certainly, it is a ghost story designed to delight the imagination of young women. Finally, it shows the survival of ancient and widely distributed primitive beliefs about the treatment of the dead.

        The rowdy Irish wake is the only one example of the common folk custom of a gathering in which ceremonial banqueting and games were indulged in to show honour to the dead person. The shade was given a great send-off to the other world. Sometimes guns were fired to send him skittering away in fear. Sometimes a special door was cut in the side of the wall so that the coffin could be taken out by that route; and then this hole was walled up so that the ghost could not find his way back into the house again.

        In Scotland and Ireland it was believed that excessive grief prevented the dead from resting; that the tears shed by the mourners pierced holes in the corpse. In Persia they held that the tears shed by humanity for their dead flowed into a river in which the souls floated and drowned. Similar beliefs were held by the Greeks and Romans, and from mediaeval times throughout Germany and Scandinavia.

        Sharp says that in England a belief was current that if a girl was betrothed to a man, she was pledged to him if he died, and was bound to follow him to the spirit world unless she solved certain riddles, or performed certain tasks, such as fetching water from a desert, blood from a stone, milk from the breast of a virgin…

        and in the The Power of the True Love Knot album notes:

        This song is a tender and magical expression of an ancient community belief: a very proper belief that when the mourning of a lover’s death started to drain life from the living, love was being misused. Tears flowed into the Styx, and the river swelled and became impassable, so the dead come back and warn the quick. On this track and elsewhere I play an instrument made for me by John Bailey, which is a dulcimer with a five-string banjo neck.

        The Ian Campbell Folk Group with Dave Swarbrick sang The Unquiet Grave in 1963 on their album This Is the Ian Campbell Folk Group. This track was included in 2005 on their anthology The Times They Are A-Changin’.

        Alex Campbell sang The Unquiet Grave in 1966 on his album Yours Aye, Alex; this track was included in 1966 on his compilation CD Been on the Road So Long.

        Hedy West sang an American version The Unquiet Grave in 1967 on her Topic album Ballads. Her (or A.L. Lloyd’s) sleeve notes commented:

        There’s widespread and ancient belief that excessive grieving over the dead disturbs their rest. The Greeks and Romans thought so, and the idea is as common in the Far East as in Western Europe. In Ireland as in Rumania it was thought that inordinate tears would burn a hole in the corpse, and in several ballads the dead complain that they cannot sleep because the tears of the living have wet their winding sheet. This ballad, of a restless ghost who confronts and reproaches the mourner, is probably a fragment broken off some longer, more complicated narrative. Though it’s been relatively common in England till recent times, it seems very rare in America, and has turned up only in a scattered handful of versions from Newfoundland, Virginia and North Carolina (which is where the present version comes from, collected by the indefatigable Frank C. Brown).

        Jon Raven sang The Unquiet Grave in 1968 on the Broadside album The Halliard : Jon Raven.

        Dave & Toni Arthur sang this ballad as Cold Blows the Winter’s Wind in 1969 on their Topic album The Lark in the Morning. The sleeve notes commented:

        The ballad, usually called The Unquiet Grave, concerns a person who feels bound to sit and mourn by his (sometimes, her) lover’s grave for a period of time. In nearly all versions, the corpse complains of being disturbed, illustrating the ancient belief that excessive grief interferes with the peace of the dead. In archaic folklore, a constant concern, when faced with a death, is to try to ensure that the corpse makes a pleasant and reassured transit from the land of the living to the world of the dead. Otherwise the dead may return, uneasy and vengeful, to plague the living. Hence for instance the jollification at Irish wakes, intended to cheer and embolden the dead. Singers have ended our ballad in various ways, sometimes heartbroken and disconsolate, sometimes more or less lightheartedly as: “But since I have lost my own true love, I must get another in time.” Our tune is from Fred Hamer’s collection Garners Gay. The words are from Alfred Williams’s Folk-Songs of the Upper Thames.

        Frankie Armstrong sang The Unquiet Grave in 1971 on her Topic album Lovely on the Water. A.L. Lloyd commented in the sleeve notes:

        A woman laments long over the grave of her sweetheart, till he speaks from the grave and reproaches her for disturbing his rest. Usually in the ballads the setting and the characters are named, but here we know neither the who nor the where, and the supernatural climate is further charged with mystery on that account. The tale is old, like the belief that too much grief disturbs the dead, though to this day, in Eastern Europe, some peasants believe that mourner’s tears make an unhealing burn if they chance to light on a corpse. In some versions the dead person threatens to tear the living one to pieces (the favourite revenge of ghosts!) unless absolute fidelity can be sworn to. But Frankie’s version is milder, more consolatory, as fits her gentle character. By and large, the tune she uses is one recorded by Vaughan Williams at Dilwyn, Herefordshire.

        John Kirkpatrick and Sue Harris sang this ballad as Cold Blows the Wind in 1976 on their Topic LP Among the Many Attractions at the Show Will Be a Really High Class Band and John Kirkpatrick did it again in 2007 on his Fledg’ling CD Make No Bones. He commented in the latter album’s sleeve notes:

        When I moved to Shropshire in 1973 and started looking at the local folk music, the singing of May Bradley was a glorious revelation. I never saw her in the flesh, but Fred Hamer’s recordings of her in Ludlow during the 1960s proved to be a real treasure chest of wonderful songs wonderfully sung. She was the daughter of Ester Smith, a gypsy singer that Vaughan Williams had collected from in Herefordshire at the beginning of the century, and had some of her mother’s songs as well as plenty of others. This is her tune for what is sometimes known as The Unquiet Grave—Child Ballad no. 78. I’ve sung this before in a past life, but in revisiting the song I have added a few lines from other versions to fill out the sense of the words.

        Two books of the songs Fred Hamer collected were published by EFDS Publications Ltd., and you can see this in the first one from 1967, Garners Gay. Or a much better option is to hear [May Bradley] singing it herself on the EFDSS LP Garners Gay issued in 1971, EFDSS LP 1006.

        May Bradley’s version can also be found on her Musical Traditions anthology Sweet Swansea (2010).

        Jo Freya sang The Unquiet Grave in 1992 on her CD Traditional Songs of England.

        Sandra Kerr sang The Unquiet Grave in 1970 on the Argo Voices anthology series, Second Book, Record One (Argo DA96). Her daughter Nancy sang it in 1993 on the CD Eliza Carthy & Nancy Kerr. She referred in her sleeve notes to Evelin Wells’ The Ballad Tree, and to her mother singing this version onVoices.

        Louis Killen learnt The Unquiet Grave from Brian Ballinger and sang in on his 1993 CD A Bonny Bunch.

        Steeleye Span sang One True Love in 1998 on their CD Horkstow Grange, and they recorded The Unquiet Grave in 2009 for their CD Cogs Wheels and Lovers. Tim Harries commented in the former album’s notes:

        The sources for [One True Love] are The Unquiet Grave, (spooky old English song), Lovely Joan, and a small fragment of Lowlands of Holland. The inspiration came largely from Borrowed Time by Paul Monette, a book you may be familiar with.

        Kate Rusby couldn’t let the dead sleep on her 1999 CD Sleepless.

        Like John Kirkpatrick, Jon Boden learned Cold Blows the Wind from the singing of May Bradley. He sang it with Bellowhead in 2010 on their CD Hedonism, and he sang it unaccompanied as the December 29, 2010 entry of his project A Folk Song a Day.

        Rachel Newton sang The Unquiet Grave on The Furrow Collective’s 2015 EP Blow Out the Moon. She commented in the album’s notes:

        I took the words for the well known ballad The Unquiet Grave from Child no. 78a; and the melody I use is based on a version I learned from the singing of Shirley Collins.

        Siobhan Miller sang The Unquiet Grave on her 2017 album Strata.

        Lyrics

        A.L. Lloyd sings The Unquiet Grave
        “Cold blows the wind to my true love,
        And gentle drops the rain,
        I never had but one true love
        And in Greenwood she is lain.
        “I’ll do as much for my true love
        As any young man may,
        I’ll sit and weep all on her grave
        For a twelve month and a day.”
        When the twelve month and one day was o’er,
        Her ghost begun for to speak,
        “Why sit you here all on my grave
        And will not let me sleep?”
        “There’s one thing more I want, sweetheart,
        And one thing more I crave,
        And that’s a kiss from your lily-white lips
        And then I’ll go from your grave.”
        “My lips are cold as clay, sweetheart,
        My breath smells heavy and strong,
        And if you kiss my lily-white lips,
        Your time would not be long.”
        Shirley Collins sings The Unquiet Grave Nancy Kerr sings The Unquiet Grave
        “Cold blows the wind tonight, true love,
        Cold are the drops of rain,
        I only had but one true love
        And in Greenwood he lies slain.
        “The wind doth blow today, my love,
        And a few small drops of rain;
        I never had but one true love
        And in Greenwood he is lain.
        “I’ll do as much for my true love
        As any young girl may,
        I’ll sit and mourn all by his grave
        For a twelve-month and a day.”
        “I’ll do as much for my true love
        As any young girl may,
        I’ll sit and mourn all on his grave
        For twelve months and a day.”
        Now the twelve-month and a day being gone,
        The ghost began to greet:
        “Your salten tears they trickle down
        They wet my winding sheet.”
        The twelve months and a day being done,
        The dead began to speak:
        “Oh, who sits weeping on my grave
        And will not let me sleep?”
        “It’s I, my love, sits by your grave
        And will not let you sleep.
        For I crave one kiss from your clay-cold lips
        And that is all I seek.”
        “’Tis I, your love sits on your grave
        And will not let you sleep.
        For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips
        And that is all I seek.”
        “But lily, lily are my lips,
        My breath comes earthy strong.
        If you have one kiss from my clay-cold lips,
        Your time will not be long.”
        “Your breath is as the roses sweet,
        Mine as the sulphur strong.
        And if you get one kiss from my lips,
        Your time will not be long.“
        “’Twas down in yonder garden green,
        Love, where we used to walk.
        And the fairest flower that e’er was seen
        Has withered to the stalk.”
        “’Tis down in yonder garden green,
        Love, where we used to walk.
        The finest flower that e’er was seen
        Is withered to a stalk.”
        “The stalk is withered dry, true love,
        So must our hearts decay.
        Then rest yourself content, my dear,
        Till God calls you away,
        Till God calls you away.”
        “The stalk is withered and dry, sweetheart,
        And the flower will never return.
        And since I lost my own true love
        What can I do but mourn?”“Mourn not for me, my own true love,
        Mourn not for me I pray.
        For I must leave you and all the world
        And go into my grave.”
        Bellowhead sings Cold Blows the Wind Steeleye Span sing One True Love
        “Cold blows the wind over my true love,
        Cold blows the drops of rain,
        I never had but one true love
        And in Greenwood he lies slain.“I’ll do as much for my true love
        As any young girl may,
        I’ll sit and weep down by his grave
        For twelve months and a day.”But when twelve months they were up and gone
        This young man he arose:
        “What makes you sit by my grave and weep?
        I can’t take my repose!”“One kiss, one kiss from you lily-white lips,
        One kiss is all I crave.
        One kiss, one kiss from you lily-white lips,
        Then return back to your grave.”“These lips they are as cold as clay,
        My breath is heavy and strong.
        if you were to kiss these lily-white lips
        Your life would not be long.“Oh, don’t you remember the garden grove,
        Where once we used to walk?
        Go pick the finest flower of them all,
        It will wither to a stalk.“Go fetch me a flower from the dungeon deep,
        Bring water from a stone.
        Bring white milk from a virgin’s breast
        That baby never bore none.”“Go dig me a grave both wide and deep,
        Dig it as quick as you may.
        That I may lay down and take a long sleep
        For twelve months and a day.”
        Cold blows the wind o’er my true love,
        Cold blows the drops of rain,
        I never had but one true love
        And never will again.I’ll do as much for my true love
        As any lover may,
        I’ll sit and weep down by his grave
        A twelve-month in one day.One kiss, one kiss from your sweet lips,
        One kiss is all I grave.
        One kiss, one kiss from your sweet lips,
        And sink down in your grave.And your lips, they are not sweet my love
        Your kiss is cold as clay,
        My time be long, my time be short,
        Tomorrow or today.And down beyond the garden wall,
        Where we both used to walk,
        Are finest flowers that ever grew
        All withered to a stalk.(repeat first verse)

        Acknowledgements

        Transcribed from the singing of Nancy Kerr by Kira White.

        Source: Traditional Songfacts

        • “The Unquiet Grave” is both a poem and a song. Intensely sad, and written in the first person singular, the mourner laments the love of his life sitting weeping at her graveside for a year and a day, at which point her ghost rises up and asks who will not allow her to sleep. He identifies himself and asks for “one kiss of your clay-cold lips”. She disavows him of that notion, and tells him to put his grief behind him and enjoy the rest of his life “Till God calls you away”.

        • Like most traditional songs there are many variations, of the title as well as the lyrics in this case. Extensive research on its origin and development can be found in Volume II of The Traditional Tunes Of The Child Ballads With Their Texts, according to the Extant Records of Great Britain and America, by Bertrand Harris Bronson, which was published by Princeton University Press in 1962.
          According to this book, none of the extant texts of the ballad is older than the early 19th Century but it probably dates from about the end of the 15th. A version was recorded by [ie sung to] musicologist Cecil Sharp on January 23, 1907 by Mrs Ware of Eley Over Stowey. The same day, Sharp recorded “Cold Blows The Wind” by James Chedgey of Bincombe Over Stowey.
          Sabine Baring-Gould (who is best known for writing the lyrics to “Onward Christian Soldiers”) collected a version, from J. Woodrich, a blacksmith of Wollacot Moor, Thrushleton, in 1889.
          Probably the earliest recorded version is “Cold Blows The Wind” which was sung by Elizabeth Doidge, a nurse of Brentnor, and collected by Mrs Gibbons, the daughter of W.L.Trelawney, Bart, c1830. This version had the tune usually associated with “Childe The Hunter”.There is also “How Cold The Winds Do Blow”, sung by Mrs Rugman of Dunsfold, Surrey, 1896; “Cold Blows The Wind To-night, Sweetheart”, sung by Mrs Bowker, of Sunderland Point, Lancashire, in September 1909, and further afield, “The Auld Song From Cow Head” sung by the Reverend Mr Gibbs Bull of Newfoundland in 1929.
        • Another musicologist who researched “The Unquiet Grave” in some depth was the aforementioned Cecil Sharp. Volume I of the 1994 Oxford University Press edition of his …Collection Of English Folk Songs, Edited by Maud Karpeles records no less than seventeen different versions, the oldest of which was sung to him by Mrs Ree at Hambridge, Somerset, on April 4, 1904.

        • “The Unquiet Grave” has been recorded by many artists, including Joan Baez and Karen Mall (suitably amended for gender) and by Luke Kelly. >>

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        Come on over here
        and I’ll buy the next round:
        cold beer and some shooters
        for the boys on the town;
        Darby ain’t drinkin’
        so let’s live it up
        ‘cause he’ll drive us all home
        in his company truck

        Jesus Christ, Jimmy,
        man you say that you’re well;
        I say we drive into Boston
        and stir up some hell;
        put a cap on the weekend,
        a stitch in the night,
        watch the Pats play on Sunday
        and the welterweight fight.

        That’s all she wrote boys,
        there ain’t any more;
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        that’s what it’s for.
        That’s why we all go on working all day
        busting our ass for short pay:
        ~Hey…

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        in the only way you know:
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        Thanksgiving

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to the play...

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        Somewhere north of Bangor
        on the run from Tennessee.
        Lost in back scrub paper land
        in section TR-3.
        It’s hit him he’s an outlaw
        a Georgia cracker’s son,
        who killed a man in Nashville
        with his daddies favorite gun.
        It’s hit him with the loneliness
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        on a long ago railway
        stretched between two stars.

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        Contact Fitz!

        John Barleycorn

        John Barleycorn

        The Ancient Ballads

        John Barleycorn

        John Barleycorn

        by John Fitzsimmons | The American Folk Experience

        ~Traditional Ballad

        There were three men,
        Came from the west,
        Their fortunes for to tell,
        And the life of John Barleycorn as well.

        They laid him in three furrows deep,
        Laid clods upon his head,
        Then these three men made a solemn vow
        John Barleycorn was dead.



        They let him die for a very long time

        Till the rain from heaven did fall,

        Then little Sir John sprang up his head

        And he did amaze them all.  



        They let him stand till the midsummer day,

        Till he looked both pale and wan.

        The little Sir John he grew a long beard

        And so became a man.  



        They have hired men with the scythes so sharp,
        To cut him off at the knee,

        They rolled him and they tied him around the waist,

        They served him barbarously.  



        They have hired men with the crab-tree sticks,

        To cut him skin from bone,

        And the miller has served him worse than that,

        For he’s ground him between two stones.  



        They’ve wheeled him here, they’ve wheeled him there,

        They’ve wheeled him to a barn,

        And thy have served him worse than that,

        They’ve bunged him in a vat.  



        They have worked their will on John Barleycorn
        
But he lived to tell the tale,

        For they pour him out of an old brown jug

        And they call him home brewed ale. 

        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

        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.  I share their research on my site with humility, thanks, and gratitude. Please cite their work accordingly with your own research. If you have any research or sites you would like to share on this site, please post in the comment box.  Thanks!

        Broadside ballad entitled "A Huy and Cry After Sir John Barlycorn" by Alexander Pennecuik, 1725

        "John Barleycorn" is an English and Scottish folk song.[1] The song's protagonist is John Barleycorn, a personification of barley and of the alcoholic beverages made from it: beer and whisky. In the song, he suffers indignities, attacks, and death that correspond to the various stages of barley cultivation, such as reaping and malting.

        The song may have its origins in ancient English or Scottish folklore, with written evidence of the song dating it at least as far back as the Elizabethan era.[2] It is listed as number 164 in the Roud Folk Song Index. The oldest versions are Scottish and include the Scots poem "Quhy Sowld Nocht Allane Honorit Be". In 1782, the Scottish poet Robert Burns published his own version of the song, which influenced subsequent versions.

        The song survived into the twentieth century in the oral folk tradition, primarily in England, and many popular folk revival artists have recorded versions of the song. In most traditional versions, including the sixteenth century Scottish version entitled Alan-a-Maut, the plant's ill-treatment by humans and its re-emergence as beer to take its revenge are key themes.[3]

        History

        Possible ancient origins

        The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs (London, 1959), edited by the folk singer A. L. Lloyd and the composer Ralph Vaughan Williams, ponders whether the ballad is "an unusually coherent folklore survival" or "the creation of an antiquarian revivalist, which has passed into popular currency and become 'folklorised'". It has been theorised that the figure could have some relation to the semi-mythical wicker man ritual, which involves burning a man in effigy.[2]

        A link between the mythical figure Beowa (a figure from Anglo-Saxon paganism, appearing in early Anglo-Saxon royal genealogies; his name means "barley") and John Barleycorn is suggested by the author Kathleen Herbert. In her 1994 book Looking for the Lost Gods Of England, she suggests that Beowa and Barleycorn are one and the same, noting that the folksong details the suffering, death, and resurrection of Barleycorn, yet celebrates the "reviving effects of drinking his blood".[4]

        Written versions

        Porcelain image of John Barleycorn, c .1761

        The first song to personify Barley was called Allan-a-Maut ('Alan of the malt'), a Scottish song written prior to 1568;[3]

        Allan is also the subject of "Quhy Sowld Nocht Allane Honorit Be", a fifteenth or sixteenth century Scots poem included in the Bannatyne Manuscript of 1568 and 17th century English broadsides.

        "A Pleasant New Ballad" (1624)

        The first mention of "John Barleycorn" as the character was in a 1624 London broadside entitled introduced as "A Pleasant New Ballad to sing Evening and morn, / Of the Bloody murder of Sir John Barley-corn".[3] The following two verses are from this 1624 version:

        Yestreen, I heard a pleasant greeting
        A pleasant toy and full of joy, two noblemen were meeting
        And as they walked for to sport, upon a summer's day,
        Then with another nobleman, they went to make affray

        Whose names was Sir John Barleycorn, he dwelt down in a dale,
        Who had a kinsman lived nearby, they called him Thomas Good Ale,
        Another named Richard Beer, was ready at that time,
        Another worthy knight was there, called Sir William White Wine.[3]

        The final two verses of this 1624 version show Barleycorn's vengeance through intoxicating his killers:

        When Sir John Goodale he came with mickle might
        Then he took their tongues away, their legs or else their sight
        And thus Sir John in each respect, so paid them all their hire
        That some lay sleeping by the way, some tumbling in the mire

        Some lay groaning by the walls, some in the streets downright,
        The best of them did scarcely know, what they had done oernight
        All you good wives that brew good ale, God turn from you all teen
        But if you put too much liquor in, the Devil put out your een.

        Robert Burns (1782)

        Robert Burns published his own version in 1782, which adds a more mysterious undertone and became the model for most subsequent versions of the ballad. Burns's version begins:

        There was three kings unto the east,
        Three kings both great and high,
        And they hae sworn a solemn oath
        John Barleycorn should die.

        They took a plough and plough'd him down,
        Put clods upon his head,
        And they hae sworn a solemn oath
        John Barleycorn was dead.

        Unlike other versions, Robert Burns makes John Barleycorn into a saviour:

        And they hae taen his very heart's blood,
        And drank it round and round;
        And still the more and more they drank,
        Their joy did more abound.

        John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
        Of noble enterprise;
        For if you do but taste his blood,
        'Twill make your courage rise.

        'Twill make a man forget his woe;
        'Twill heighten all his joy;
        'Twill make the widow's heart to sing,
        Tho' the tear were in her eye.

        Then let us toast John Barleycorn,
        Each man a glass in hand;
        And may his great posterity
        Ne'er fail in old Scotland!

        Field recordings

        Many field recordings of the song were made of traditional singers performing the song, mostly in England. In 1908, Percy Grainger used phonograph technology to record a Lincolnshire man named William Short singing the song; the recording can be heard on the British Library Sound Archive website.[5] James Madison Carpenter recorded a fragment sung by a Harry Wiltshire of Wheald, Oxfordshire in the 1930s, which is available on the Vaughan Williams Memorial Library website[6] as well as another version probably performed by a Charles Phelps of Avening, Gloucestershire.[7] The Shropshire singer Fred Jordan was recorded singing a traditional version in the 1960s.[8]

        A version recorded in Doolin, Co. Clare, Ireland from a Michael Flanagan in the 1970s is available courtesy of the County Clare Library.[9]

        The Scottish singer Duncan Williamson also had a traditional version which was recorded.[10]

        Helen Hartness Flanders recorded a version sung by a man named Thomas Armstrong of Mooers Forks, New York, USA in 1935.[11]

        Ralph Vaughan Williams used a version of the song in his English Folk Song Suite (1923).[12]

        Many versions of the song have been recorded, including popular versions by the rock groups Traffic (appearing on their 1970 album John Barleycorn Must Die) and Jethro Tull (appearing first on their 1992 album A Little Light Music and then on various other albums). The song has also been recorded by Fire + Ice, Gae Bolg, Bert Jansch, the John Renbourn Group, Pentangle, Finest Kind, Martin Carthy, Roy Bailey, Martyn Bates in collaboration with Max Eastley, the Watersons, Steeleye Span, Joe Walsh, Fairport Convention, Donnybrook Fair, Oysterband, Frank Black, Quadriga Consort, Maddy Prior, Heather Alexander, Leslie Fish, Tim van Eyken, Barry Dransfield, Of Cabbages and Kings, Winterfylleth (band), John Langstaff, Ayreheart, and many other performers. The song is also a central part of Simon Emmerson's The Imagined Village project. Martin and Eliza Carthy perform the song alongside Paul Weller on the Imagined Village album. Billy Bragg sang in Weller's place on live performances. Rock guitarist Joe Walsh performed the song live in 2007 as a tribute to Jim Capaldi. English folk musician Sam Lee recorded a version on his album "Old Wow," accompanied by a video filmed at Stonehenge.[13]

        Julian Cope's album Drunken Songs has the following written on its front cover: "John Barleycorn died for somebody's sins but not mine." This is both a reference to John Barleycorn, Patti Smith, and the Traffic album mentioned above.

        The John Barleycorn Pub, Duxford, Cambridgeshire

        For his 2017 album, “Sillion”, Johnny Flynn wrote the song “Barleycorn” which heavily references the character John Barleycorn.

        In the 2014 album "One and All, Together, For Home", Winterfylleth interprets the Robert Burns version of the poem.

        In Green Lung's 2021 single, "Reaper's Scythe", the character is referenced with the line "'John Barleycorn must die'".[14]

        Use of "John Barleycorn" to symbolise alcohol in an anti-prohibition illustration

        "John Barleycorn" has been used as a symbol or a slang term for alcohol,[15] and its association with alcohol has been used in various areas of life. Several pubs in the South of England are called "John Barleycorn", in locations including Harlow, Southampton and Reading. Jack London's 1913 autobiographical novel John Barleycorn takes its name from the song and discusses his enjoyment of drinking and struggles with alcoholism.

        John Barleycorn use of name in headline

        The use of the term to symbolise alcohol misuse was so widespread that it was used as a headline on court reports about drunkenness in late Victorian times.

        In the climax of the Inside No. 9 episode 'Mr King', the song is performed by a class of schoolchildren as they prepare to ritualistically sacrifice their teacher for their harvest festival.[16]

        See also

        References

        1. ^ Winkler, Elizabeth Hale (1990). The Function of Song in Contemporary British Drama. University of Delaware Press. pp. 75–76. ISBN 978-0-87413-358-5.
        2. ^ a b Wigington, Patti (9 July 2019). "The Legend of John Barleycorn". Learn Religions. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        3. ^ a b c d "John Barleycorn revisited". Musical Traditions. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        4. ^ Herbert, Kathleen (2007). Looking for the Lost Gods of England. Anglo-Saxon Books. p. 16. ISBN 978-1-898281-04-7.
        5. ^ "Percy Grainger ethnographic wax cylinders | John Barleycorn". British Library Sounds. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        6. ^ "Sir John Barleycorn (VWML Song Index SN19068)". Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        7. ^ "John Barleycorn (VWML Song Index SN18608)". aVaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        8. ^ "John Barleycorn (Roud Folksong Index S240733)". Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        9. ^ "The Barley Grain (Roud 164)". County Clare Library. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        10. ^ "John Barleycorn (Roud Folksong Index (S240727)". Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        11. ^ "John Barleycorn (Roud Folksong Index S240727)". The Vaughan Williams Memorial Library. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        12. ^ Kennedy, Michael (1 December 1992). "Vaughan Williams, Ralph (opera)". Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press. doi:10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.article.o007350. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        13. ^ "Watch: Sam Lee – John Barleycorn". Folk Radio. 24 September 2021. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        14. ^ "Reaper's Scythe, by GREEN LUNG". GREEN LUNG. Retrieved 19 April 2023.
        15. ^ "Thesaurus results for JOHN BARLEYCORN". Merriam-Webster. Retrieved 25 May 2022.
        16. ^ Craig, David (27 April 2022). "Inside No. 9 episode 2 ending explained: Who is Mr King?". Radio Times. Retrieved 25 May 2022.

        Sources

          Source: Mainly Norfolk

          John Barleycorn

          Roud 164 ; G/D 3:559 ; Ballad Index ShH84 ; Full English CJS2/9/2124 ; trad.]This old ballad of the death and resurrection of the Corn God was recorded in many versions by lots of musicians:

          A.L. Lloyd sang John Barleycorn in 1956, accompanied by Alf Edwards on English concertina, on English Drinking Songs. This recording was also included in 1994 on his Fellside anthology CD Classic A.L. Lloyd. Lloyd commented in the latter’s sleeve notes:

          The song is related to the ancient idea of the Corn King. Perhaps too neatly so, hence the suspicion that it may not be a genuine piece of primitive folklore. It is old (it was already in print c.1635) and has been passed on by generations of country singers. The tune is a variant of Dives and Lazarus.

          A group of Boggans from Haxey, Lincolnshire, sang John Barleycorn in the 1950s in a recording made by Peter Kennedy and Seamus Ennis. It was included on the anthology Songs of Ceremony (The Folk Songs of Britain Volume 9; Caedmon 1961; Topic 1970).

          Mike Waterson sang John Barleycorn on the Watersons’ 1965 LP Frost and Fire. His first three verses are quite similar to Lloyd’s, the first half of the fourth differs more and his fifth verse is completely different from Lloyd’s fifth and sixth verse. Mike Waterson’s recording was also published on the Topic Sampler No. 6, A Collection of Ballads & Broadsides and in 2004 on the Watersons’ 4CD anthology Mighty River of Song. A.L. Lloyd commented in Mike’s original recording’s sleeve notes:

          Sometimes called The Passion of the Corn. It’s such an unusually coherent figuration of the old myth of the Corn-king cut down and rising again, that the sceptical incline to think it may be an invention or refurbishing carried out by some educated antiquarian. If so, he did his work long ago and successfully, for the ballad was already in print in the early years of the seventeenth century, and it has been widespread among folk singers in many parts of the English and Scottish countryside. Cecil Sharp obtained this version from Shepherd Haden of Bampton, Oxfordshire [on August 31, 1909].

          Fred Jordan sang John Barleycorn in a recording made by Bill Leader and Mike Yates in a private room in The Bay Malton Hotel, Oldfield Brow, Altringham, Cheshire, in 1966. It was included in the same year on his Topic album Songs of a Shropshire Farm Worker and in 1998 on the Topic anthology They Ordered Their Pints of Beer and Bottles of Sherry (The Voice of the People Series Volume 13). Another recording made by Mike Yates in 1965 was included in 2003 on his Veteran anthology A Shropshire Lad.

          Martin Carthy sang John Barleycorn in 1966 on Songs from ABC Television’s “Hallelujah” and, accompanied by Dave Swarbrick, on their 1967 LPByker Hill. This version is quite similar to Mike Waterson’s, see the lyrics below. It was reissued on the compilation album This Is… Martin Carthy. Another version is on his 1974 album Sweet Wivelsfield. A live recording from Memphis Folk Club, Leeds dating from 1973 can be found on The Carthy Chronicles. He also sang it live in studio in July 2006 for the DVD Guitar Maestros. Martin Carthy commented in his original album’s sleeve notes:

          A.L. Lloyd in The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs points out that if John Barleycorn is a folklore survival of the ancient myth of the death and resurrection of the Corn God, it is remarkable if only for its coherence, but, he says, it could be the work of some more recent writer which was somehow absorbed into the tradition. It is certainly powerful enough to be the former but also quaint enough (not to use the word in its pejorative sense) to be the latter. It might be interesting to speculate further of the three men coming from the West (sunset—the place of death?) bringing with them the promise of live (for no matter what they do they succeed only in giving John Barleycorn new life) and the Three Wise Men coming from the East (sunrise—the place of life?) to see Jesus, bringing as gifts the promise of death. It is found all over the British Isles; this version was taken down in Bampton, Oxfordshire, by Cecil Sharp.

          and in the Carthy Chronicles:

          Forget the academic stuff about death and rebirth, fertility symbols and corn gods! The reason that this is one of the best known and most popular of all ballads—and one which has crossed a great many musical thresholds—is that it’s actually about that other activity which most commonly accompanies the singing of traditional songs—drinking!

          Dave and Tony Arthur sang The Barley Grain for Me in 1967 on their Transatlantic album Morning Stands on Tiptoe.

          The Young Tradition sang John Barleycorn in 1968 on their last LP, Galleries. This track was included in 1994 on the Ronco anthology The British Folk Collection as the first Young Tradition track reissued on CD. They also sang it on November 17, 1968 at their concert at Oberlin College, Ohio, that was published in 2013 on their Fledg’ling CD Oberlin 1968. Heather Wood commented in the original album’s sleeve notes:

          From the Cecil Sharp collection. One of the many songs which we picked up by a process of osmosis.

          Traffic recorded John Barleycorn as title track of their 1970 album John Barleycorn Must Die with verses nearly identical to Mike Waterson’s. In fact, Steve Winwood learnt the song from the Watersons. This track was also included in 1975 on the famous anthology Electric Muse: The Story of Folk into Rock.

          Derek and Dorothy Elliott sang John Barleycorn in 1972 on their eponymous Leader album, Derek & Dorothy Elliott.

          Steeleye Span’s version on their 1972 album Below the Salt is again similar in the beginning to the previous versions but differs in the last verse. They recorded John Barleycorn a second time in 2002 for their CD Present. A live recording from The Forum, London on September 2, 1995 was released on their double CD The Journey. Their singer Maddy Prior recorded John Barleycorn in 2003 for her solo album Lionhearts; this track can also be found on her anthology Collections: A Very Best of 1995 to 2005. Their first recording’s sleeve notes commented:

          Adam, Cain and Abel staggered manfully across the field carrying a plough, a harrow and a grain of wheat … John Barleycorn—mysterious intimations from above told them to dig three deep furrows and bury him—this done they returned home and started to draw up plans for the first ale house.

          Bob Hart sang John Barleycorn at home in Snape, Suffolk in July 1972 in a recording made by Tony Engle. It was published in 1973 on his Topic album Songs from Suffolk. Another recording made by Rod and Danny Stradling in July 1969 was included in 2007 on his Musical Traditions anthology A Broadside.

          Ernest Austin sang John Barleycorn in a recording made by Tony Engle at Bentley, Essex, in November 1973 that was published in 1974 on the Topic albumFlash Company.

          Bob Blake sang John Barleycorn in a recording made by Mike Yates at Broadbridge Heath, Sussex in 1974 that was included in 1987 on the Veteran Tapes cassette of traditional singing in Sussex, Ripest Apples (VT107), and in 2001 on the Veteran CD anthology of “traditional folk music from rural England”,Down in the Fields.

          Tom Smith of Thorpe Morieux (b. 1918) learned John Barleycorn from his father Bert Smith and sang it in a John Howson recording on the Veteran Tapes cassette Songs Sung in Suffolk Vol 2 (VT102, published in 1987-89), on the 2000 Veteran CD Songs Sung in Suffolk, and on the CD accompanying The Folk Handbook (2007).

          Austin Flanagan sang The Barley Grain at home in Luogh, Doolin, Co. Clare, in August 1974. This recording made by Jim Carroll and Pat Mackenzie was included in 1998 on the Topic anthology Troubles They Are But Few (The Voice of the People Series Volume 14).

          Barry Skinner sang John Barleycorn in 1974 on the Argo album The World of the Countryside.

          Roy Bailey learned John Barleycorn from The Constant Lovers, edited by Frank Purslow, and sang it in 1976 on his album New Bell Wake.

          The Songwainers sang John Barleycorn in June 1976 at the festival Eurofolk ’76 in Ingelheim, Germany.

          The John Renbourn Group sang John Barleycorn in 1977 on their Transatlantic album A Maid in Bedlam.

          Louis Killen sang John Barleycorn in Winter 1977 at the Eldron Fennig Museum of American Ephemera; this recording was published in the following year on his album Old Songs, Old Friends.

          There are several Fairport Convention live recordings of John Barleycorn, e.g. on Forever Young (Cropredy 1982), The Boot (Cropredy 1983), and The Cropredy Box (Cropredy 1997).

          Andy Turner first learned John Barleycorn from Steeleye Span’s album. He and Ian Giles sang the classic Shepherd Haden version collected by Cecil Sharp, though, in 1983 on Magpie Lane’s first album, The Oxford Ramble, and he sang it as the June 10, 2016 entry of his project A Folk Song a Week. This video shows And and Ian at the very first Magpie Lane gig at Holywell Music Room in May 1993:

          Andy Turner also sang a version of John Barleycorn that was collected in the 1970s by Gwilym Davies on Magpie Lane’s 2000 CD A Taste of Ale. Andy Turner and Chris Wood recorded another version on a demo tape in ca. 1985 which he used as the October 22, 2012 entry of his project A Folk Song a Week. This version was collected from Bert Edwards of Little Stretton, Shropshire, by Peter Kennedy and printed in the latter’s Folksongs of Britain and Ireland, and is similar to Fred Jordan’s version.

          Pete Morton sang John Barleycorn in 1990 at the Folk Festival Sidmouth.

          Barry Dransfield sang John Barleycorn in 1994 on his Rhiannon CD Be Your Own Man. This track was also included in 2007 on the anthology Old Wine New Skins.

          Coope, Boyes & Simpson sang John Barleycorn on their 1998 CD Hindsight.

          Chris Foster sang Jack Barleycorn in 2003 on his Tradition Bearers CD Traces.

          Jim Causley sang John Barleycorn in 2005 on his WildGoose CD Fruits of the Earth.

          Chris Wood sang John Barleycorn in 2005 on his CD The Lark Descending.

          Duncan Williamson sang John Barleycorn at the Fife Traditional Singing Festival, Collessie, Fife in May 2006. This recording was included a year later on Festival anthology Some Rants o’ Fun (Old Songs & Bothy Ballads Volume 3). His version was also included in the EFDSS book of songs of English and Scottish Travellers and Gypsies, Traveller’s Joy.

          Tim van Eyken sang Barleycorn “after Fred Jordan” in 2006 on his Topic CD Stiffs Lovers Holymen Thieves. This track was also included in 2009 on Topic’s 70th Anniversary anthology, Three Score and Ten.

          Paul Weller and Martin and Eliza Carthy sang John Barleycorn in 2007 on The Imagined Village’s eponymous first CD, The Imagined Village.

          The Lark Rise Band recorded John Barleycorn in 2008 for their album Lark Rise Revisited.

          Jon Boden sang John Barleycorn as the April 13, 2011 entry of his project A Folk Song a Day. He noted in his blog:

          Another ‘big song’ that I’ve only just got around to learning. There are so many good versions around, to choose from, but this is basically Carthy’s version I think.

          Mark T sang John Barleycorn in 2011 on his CD Folk Songs & Ballads.

          The Dovetail Trio sang John Barleycorn in 2014 on their eponymous EP, The Dovetail Trio. This video shows them at the Wheelhouse on January 4, 2014:

          Lyrics

          A.L. Lloyd sings John Barleycorn Mike Waterson sings John Barleycorn
          There was three men come out of the west
          Their fortunes for to try,
          And these three men made a solemn vow:
          John Barleycorn should die.
          They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in,
          Throwed clods upon his head.
          And these three men made a solemn vow:
          John Barleycorn was dead.
          There were three men come out of the west
          Their fortunes for to try,
          And these three men made a solemn vow:
          John Barleycorn should die.
          They’ve ploughed, they’ve sown, they’ve harrowed him in,
          Throwed clods on his head.
          And these three men made a solemn vow:
          John Barleycorn was dead.
          They let him lie for a very long time
          Till the rain from heaven did fall,
          And little Sir John sprung up his head
          And that amazed them all.
          They let him stand till midsummer
          And he growed both pale and wan.
          Then little Sir John, he growed a long beard
          And so become a man.
          They’ve let him lie for a very long time
          Till the rain from hea’en did fall,
          And little Sir John sprung up his head
          And soon amazed them all.
          They’ve let him stand till midsummer day
          Till he looked both pale and wan.
          And little Sir John’s grown a long, long beard
          And so become a man.
          They hired men with the scythes so sharp
          To cut him off at the knee.
          And poor little Johnny Barleycorn
          They served most barbarously.
          They hired men with the sharp pitchforks
          To pierce him to the heart.
          And the loader, he served him worse than that
          For he bound him to the cart.
          They’ve hired men with the scythes so sharp
          To cut him off at the knee.
          They’ve rolled him and tied him by the waist,
          Serving him most barbarously.
          They’ve hired men with the sharp pitchforks
          Who pricked him to the heart.
          And the loader, he served him worse than that
          For he’s bound him to the cart.
          They wheeled him all around the field
          A prisoner to endure,
          And in the barn poor Barleycorn
          They laid him upon the floor.
          They hired men with the crab tree sticks
          To cut him skin from bone,
          And the miller, he served him worse than that
          For he ground him between two stones.
          They’ve wheeled him round and around the field
          Till they came into the barn
          And there they’ve made a solemn mow
          Of poor John Barleycorn.
          They’ve hired men with the crab tree sticks
          To cut him skin from bone,
          And the miller, he has served him worse than that
          For he’s ground him between two stones.
          I’ll make a boy into a man,
          A man into an ass.
          I’ll change your gold to silver, lass,
          And your silver into brass.
          I’ll make the huntsman hunt the fox
          With never a hound or horn.
          I’ll bring the tinker into gaol
          Says old John Barleycorn.
          Here’s little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
          And here’s brandy in the glass
          And little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
          Proved the strongest man at last.
          For the huntsman, he can’t hunt the fox
          Nor so loudly to blow his horn,
          And the tinker, he can’t mend kettles nor pots
          Without a little barley corn.
          Oh barley wine is the choicest drink
          That was ever drunk on land.
          It will make a man do miracles
          By the turning of his hand.
          You can tip your brandy in a glass,
          Your whiskey in a can,
          But barley corn and his nut-brown ale
          Will prove the stronger man.
          Martin Carthy sings John Barleycorn Steeleye Span sing John Barleycorn
          Oh there were three men came out of the west
          Their fortunes for to try,
          And these three men made a solemn vow:
          John Barleycorn should die.
          They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in,
          Throwed clods upon his head.
          Then these three men made a solemn vow:
          John Barleycorn was dead.
          [spoken] There were three men
          Came from the west
          Their fortunes for to tell,
          And the life of John Barleycorn as well.They have laid him in three furrows deep,
          Laid clods upon his head,
          Then these three man made a solemn vow
          𝄆 John Barleycorn was dead. 𝄇
          They let him lie for a very long time
          Till the rain from heaven did fall.
          Then little Sir John he raised up his head
          And he soon amazed them all.
          They let him lie till the long midsummer
          Till he looked both pale and wan.
          Then little Sir John growed a long, long beard
          And so became a man.
          They let him lie for a very long time
          Till the rain from heaven did fall,
          Then little Sir John he sprang up his head
          And 𝄆 he did amaze them all. 𝄇And they let him stand till the midsummer day,
          Till he looked both pale and wan.
          The little Sir John he grew a long beard
          And 𝄆 he so became a man. 𝄇
          Chorus (from here on after every verse):
          Fa la la la it’s a lovely day
          Sing fa la la leia
          Fa la la la it’s a lovely day
          Singing fa la la leia

          They hired men with the scythes so sharp
          To cut him off down by the knee.
          They rolled him and tied him around by the waist,
          Served him most barbarously.
          They hired men with the sharp pitchforks
          Who pierced him to the heart.
          But the loader, he served him far worse than that
          For he bound him to the cart.So they have hired men with the scythes so sharp,
          To cut him off at the knee,
          And they rolled him, they tied him around the waist,
          𝄆 They’ve served him barbarously. 𝄇They rode him around and around the field
          Till they came into a barn,
          And there they made a solemn mow
          Of poor John Barleycorn.
          They hired men with the crab-tree sticks
          Who cut him skin from bone
          But the miller, he served him far worse than that
          For he ground him between two stones.And they have hired men with the crab tree sticks,
          To cut him skin from bone,
          And the miller, he has served him worse than that,
          𝄆 He ground him between two stones. 𝄇Here’s little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
          And brandy in a glass.
          And little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
          Proved the stronger man at last.
          For the hunter, he can’t hunt the fox
          Nor so loudly blow his horn,
          And the tinker, he can’t mend his kettles or his pots
          Without a little bit of John Barleycorn.And they have wheeled him here and they’ve wheeled him there,
          They’ve wheeled him to a barn,
          And they have served him worse than that,
          𝄆 They’ve bunged him in a vat. 𝄇Well, they have worked their will on John Barleycorn
          But he lived to tell the tale,
          For they pour him out of an old brown jug
          And 𝄆 they call him home brewed ale. 𝄇

          Acknowledgements and Links

          Lyrics transcribed by Garry Gillard and Reinhard Zierke

          See also Pete Wood’s article John Barleycorn revisited: Evolution and Folk Song at Musical Traditions.

          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

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          When the wind begins to blow.
          I should have held on and never let you go.
          The wind blew loose the drainpipe.
          You can hear the melting snow.
          I’ll fix it in the morning when I go.
          I’ll fix it in the morning when I go.

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          Garden Woman

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          and at the window spent the morning:
          the same scene I’ve seen so many times
          is each day freshly born;
          from the ground I turn each spring and fall
          come the flowers sweetly blooming;
          you disappear among the weeds—
          you are the garden woman.

          Waiting for a Poem

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          But I’m damn pleased your coming by again.
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          You said that you had to get a move on,
          Move on and leave a space behind.
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          The March Snow

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          “You can come downstairs now;
          You see the grapefruit bowl?
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          I fixed everything for you.”

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          Momma says you drink it too.
          I can’t reach the stove,
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          What’s it like living alone?”

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          I wonder why Trump is not flipping me out? I wonder if there is some bigoted, ignorant and right-wing element that lurks inside this folk-singing, poem writing, neo-socialist shell of mine. Maybe it is not that hard for me to make the empathetic reach to feel at least...

          No Dad To Come Home To

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          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.
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          With their puzzles, their papers and pens?
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          Will they run to the window again?

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          It has been a long time since I wrote a simple old "this is what I am going to do today" post. So this is what I am going to do today: [and trust me, it will have nothing--absolutely nothing--to do with school work:)] Before the true winter settles in, I am going to...

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          of a cold harbor town;
          cup our hands
          in the warm diesel sound—
          leave while the children
          are calmed in their dreams
          by light buoys calling:
          “Don’t play around me.”

          Denise

          There is something about coming hometo this empty house, yesterday'sheavy downpours scouringclean the alreadyweathered deckwhere I sitwishing for,wanting,you.

          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.

          Zenmo Yang Ni

          I lost the time I hardly knew you,
          half-assed calling:
          “How you doing?
          Laughing at my hanging hay field;
          I never knew the time
          that tomorrow’d bring,
          until it brung to me.

          Yuan lai jui shuo: “Zenmoyang ni?”
          Xianzai chang shu: “Dou hai keyi”;
          Xiexie nimen, dou hen shang ni.
          Xiwang wo men dou hen leyi
          Dou hen leyi

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          Contact John Fitzsimmons...and thanks!