Showing posts with label ballad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ballad. Show all posts

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Bonnie George Campbell (Anonymous)


Hie upon Hielands,
and laigh upon Tay,
Bonnie George Campbell
rode out on a day.

Saddled and bridled
and booted rade he;
Toom* hame cam' the saddle,
but never cam' he.

Down cam' his auld mither,
greetin' fu' sair,
And down cam' his bonny wife,
wringin' her hair:--

"My meadow lies green,
and my corn is unshorn,
My barn is to build
and my babe is unborn."

Saddled and bridled
and booted rade he,
Toom hame cam' the saddle
but never cam' he.

_______________________
*Toom = empty

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

The Wraggle-Taggle Gypsies (Anonymous)

*
The Wraggle-Taggle Gypsies (Folk Song performed by Tears for Beer)



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___________________________________________________________________


There were three gypsies a come to my door,
And down stairs ran this a-lady, O.
One sang high and another sang low
And the other sang bonny bonny Biscay O

Then she pulled off her silk finished gown,
And put on hose of leather, O
The ragged ragged rags about our door
And she's gone with the wraggle, taggle gypsies O

It was late last night when my lord came home,
Inquiring for his a-lady O
The servants said on every hand
She's gone with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O

O saddle to me my milk-white steed
And go and fetch me my pony, O
That I may ride and seek my bride,
Who's gone with the wraggle-taggle gypsies O

O he rode high, and he rode low
He rode through wood and copses too,
Until he came to a wide open field,
And there he espied his a-lady O

What makes you leave you house and land?
What makes you leave you money, O?
What makes you leave you new-wedded lord,
To follow the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O.

What care I for my house and land?
What care I for my money,O?
What care I for my new-wedded lord,
I'm off with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O!

"Last night you slept on a goosefeather bed,
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O.
Tonight you'll sleep in a cold open field,
Along with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O."

"What care I for a goose-feather bed,
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O.
For tonight I'll sleet in a cold open field,
Along with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O.

________________________________________________________

In Song Catcher from the Southern Mountains (New York: AMS Press, 1966) author Dorothy Scarborough says that in the earliest edition of the ballad, the gypsy is called Johnny Faa, a name common among gypsies. When the gypsies were banished from Scotland in 1624, Johnny Faa disobeyed the decree and was hanged.
*

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Classic Poetry: Tom O'Bedlam (Anonymous Folk Song)

*

"The Interior of Bedlam," from A Rake's Progress, by William Hogarth, 1763.
(McCormick Library, Northwestern University--From Wikipedia).
_______________________________________________________________

From the hag and hungry goblin,
That into rags would rend ye,
------The spirit that stands
------By the naked man
In the Book of Moons, defend ye,

That of your five sound senses,
You never be forsaken,
------Nor wander from
------Yourselves with Tom,
Abroad to beg your bacon.

------ While I do sing "Any food, any feeding?
------ Money, drink, or clothing?
------ Come dame or maid,
------ Be not afraid--
------ Poor Tom will injure nothing."


Of thirty bare years have I,
Twice twenty been enraged,
------ And of forty been
------ Three times fifteen,
in durance soundly caged,

In the lordly lofts of Bedlam,
With the stubble soft and dainty,
------ Brave bracelets strong,
------ Sweet whips ding-dong,
With wholesome hunger plenty.

------ And now I sing "Any food, any feeding?
------ Money, drink, or clothing?
------ Come dame or maid,
------ be not afraid--
------ Poor Tom will injure nothing."

With a thought I took for Maudlin,
And a cruse of cockle pottage.
------ With a thing thus tall,
------ Sky bless you all,
I befell into this dotage.

I slept not since the Conquest,
Till then I never waked.
------ Till the roguish boy
------ Of love where I lay
Me found and stripped me naked.

------ While I do sing "Any food, any feeding?
------ Money, drink, or clothing?
------ Come dame or maid,
------ be not afraid--
------ Poor Tom will injure nothing."


When short I have shorn my sow's face,
And swigged my horny barrel,
------ In an oaken inn,
------ I pound my skin
As a suit of gilt apparel.

The Moon's my constant mistress,
And the lonely owl my marrow.
------The flaming drake
------and the night crow make
Me music to my sorrow.

------ While I do sing "Any food, any feeding?
------ Money, drink, or clothing?
------ Come dame or maid,
------ be not afraid--
------ Poor Tom will injure nothing."


The palsy plagues my pulses,
When I prig your pigs or pullen.
------ Your culvers take,
------ or matchless make
Your Chanticleer or Sullen.

When I want provant, with Humphry
I sup, and when benighted,
------ I repose in Paul's
------ with waking souls,
Yet never am affrighted.

------ But I do sing "Any food, any feeding?
------ Money, drink, or clothing?
------ Come dame or maid,
------ be not afraid--
------ Poor Tom will injure nothing."

I know more than Apollo,
For oft when he lies sleeping
------ I see the stars
------ at mortal wars
In the wounded welkin weeping.

The moon embrace her shepherd,
And the Queen of Love her warrior,
------ While the first doth horn
------ the star of morn,
and the next the heavenly Farrier.

------ While I do sing "Any food, any feeding?
------ Money, drink, or clothing?
------ Come dame or maid,
------ be not afraid--
------ Poor Tom will injure nothing."

The Gypsies, Snap and Pedro,
Are none of Tom's comradoes,
------ The punk I scorn,
------ and the cutpurse sworn
And the roaring boy's bravadoes.

The meek, the white, the gentle,
Me handle not nor spare not;
------ But those that cross
------ Tom Rynosseross
Do what the panther dare not.

------ Although I sing "Any food, any feeding?
------ Money, drink, or clothing?
------ Come dame or maid,
------ be not afraid--
------ Poor Tom will injure nothing."


With an host of furious fancies,
Whereof I am commander.
------ With a burning spear
------ And a horse of Air,
To the wilderness I wander.

By a knight of ghosts and shadows,
I summoned am to tourney
------ Ten leagues beyond
------ The wild world's end--
Methinks it is no journey.

------ Yet I do sing "Any food, any feeding?
------ Money, drink, or clothing?
------ Come dame or maid,
------ be not afraid--
------ Poor Tom will injure nothing."


*

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