The Fiddleship
Chorus:
Her bow, a mighty fiddle
Her masts, three whistles bright
On rolling seas of music
She steals into the night
Her lines hum in the howling wind
To the thunder of the drum
It's through the storm, into the sun
The fiddleship sails on.
Her anchor weighed long after day
Out of darkness she will come
As they hoist the music up aloft
Her crew will move as one
Throughout the night, they'll guide her
They'll heed no captain's call
And only when the sun appears
Will they let the anchor fall
For in us sails the music
And we sail inside her
Our notes, our lives, our songs, our tunes,
Are carried on the air
Night after night, day after day
For endless years to come
This faithful vessel carries us
The fiddleship sails on.
Lady Maisry
Traditional - A variation of Child No.91
There is a hall in Livingstone
And that I rue full sore
Though the cradle it be full spread up
The bride-bed is left bare.
Well, we were sisters seven
Now five are dead with child
Now there's none but you and I love
And we'll stay maidens mild
And scarcely had she spoken
When turning 'round about
The bonny earl of Livingstone
Came calling Maisry out
Now the bonny Earl of Livingstone
He liked young Maisry best
He gave to her a royal ring
And he wedded her at last
And he wedded Lady Maisry
And brought her o'er the sea
And there was none that lived upon the earth
So happy as were they
Well, she had not been at Livingstone
For twelve-month and a day
When she's as big with baby
As any lady can be
She called upon her foot page
Saying, "Man, you run with speed"
"And bid my mother come to me,
"For of her, I'll soon have need"
And away, away, this boy has gone
As fast as he could run
And when he came to the broken bridge
He loos'd his shoes and swam
And he said unto to the lady
"May the Lord your keeper be"
"What news" she asked the pretty boy,
"Have you to tell to me?"
"Your daughter now commands" he said,
"As you sit in a chair of oak
She bids you come to her quickening
Or come to her merry wake"
"Oh saddle to me the black, the black,
Go saddle to me the brown
Go saddle to me the swiftest steed
That I might ride from town.
She rode the black until he fell
She rode the brown and white
Fair fall the mare that foaled the foal
That took her to Maisry's side
"Too late. too late" they cried to her
"Too late to save the bride"
So the ladies went to the death bed then
To sit by the daughter's side
Her good lord wrang his milk-white hands
'Til his gold rings fell in three
"Let halls and bowers and all go waste
My love is ta'en from me"
But the lady took out a razor long
That was both sharp and fine
And out of Maisry's side there came
An heir for Livingstone
Then out spake Maisry's sister dear
Where she sat by the bedside
"The man shall never be born", she said,
"That will take me for a bride"
"The man", she said, "that would marry me
I'd count him but a fool
For to marry me at Whitsun
Would be to bury me at Yule"
Winds of Fortune
(John Caldwell)
Wake up, wake up, my friends, the hour is late
The days go swiftly by, such is our fate
What is the life of man, we live, we die
The deck beneath our feet, above the sky
Chorus:
Blow winds of fortune and speed our boat
Ebb and flow ocean on which we float (repeat)
The waves roll round the world, the sweet rain falls
The breeze goes swiftly by, the sea-bird calls
The winds roll round the world, our sails to fill
Our helmsman holds the oar, blow where they will
And when the winds do fail, as fail they must
We shall unship the oars, our backs to trust
And we will work again with honest toil
If we're to walk again on native soil.
Plains of Emu
("M")
Farewell to my country, my kindred, and my lover
Each morning and evening is sacred to you.
While I toil the long day, without shelter or cover,
And fell the tall gum, the black-butted and blue
Full often I think of and talk of thee, Erin:
Thy heath-covered mountains are fresh in my view.
Thy glens, lakes and rivers, Loch Conn and Kilkerran
While chained to the soil on the Plains of Emu
The iron-bark, wattles, and gum trees extending their shade,
Under which rests the shy kangaroo
Shall be felled by the blest, who have hope o'er them bending
To ease their rude toil, though far exiled from you
But alas, I've not hope, peace or honour to grace me
For each feeling was crushed in the bud as it grew
While "never" is stamped on the chains that embrace me
And ceaseless my thrall on the Plains of Emu
Dearest mother, thy love from my bossom shall never depart
But shall flourish, untainted and true.
For hard was my fate, far from thee to be driven
But force gained the day, and now I suffer for you
Oh, spare her the tear, and no charge lay upon her
And weep not, my Nora, her tears to renew
But cherish her age, until night closes on her
And think of the swain who still thinks but of you.
Our names shall still live, though like writing in water
Confined to the call of the wild cockatoo
As each wattle-scrub echo repeats to the other our names,
Then each breeze will hear me sighing anew.
But dumbed be my tongue if my heart should cease its motion
Or if the isle I forget where my first breath I drew
Each affection is warmed with sincerest devotion
And the tie it is unbroken on the Plains of Emu.
King Willy
Oh, King Willy, he's gone over the raging foam
He's wooed a wife and he's brought her home
And he has wooed her all for her long gold hair
But his mother's wrought them a mighty care
And a withy spell she's laid on her
And though she has been with child for long and many's the year
And yet no child will she ever bear
And in her power she lies in pain,
And King Willy, he stands all at her bedhead
And down his cheeks the salten tears do run.
So, King Willy he has to his mother run
And he's gone there as a begging son
He says, "Me true love has this wondrous steed,
The likes of which you have never seen.
This goodly gift shall be your own,
If back to me own true love you'll turn again
That she might bear her baby son."
"Ah, this child she shall never lie to be
Nor from sickness will she e'er be free
And she will die, and she will turn to clay
And you will wed with another maid"
So sighing says this weary man
As back to his own true love he's gone again,
"I wish me life was at an end".
So, King Willy he has back to his mother run
And he's gone there as a begging son
He says, "Me true love has this golden girdle,
Deck'd with jewels all around the middle.
This goodly gift shall be your own,
If back to me own true love you'll turn again
That she might bear her baby son."
"Ah, this child she shall never lie to be
Nor from sickness will she e'er be free
And she will die, and she will turn to clay
And you will wed with another maid"
So sighing says this weary man
As back to his own true love he's gone again,
"I wish me life was at an end".
And then up spake his noble queen
And she has told King Willy of a plan
That she might bear her baby son.
She says now, "You must get you down to the market place
And you must buy you a loaf of wax.
And you must shape it as a child that is to nurse
And you must make two eyes of glass
And ask your mother to the christening day
And you must stand all close by as you can
That you might hear what she do say."
So, King Willy, he's gone down to the market place
And he has bought him a loaf of wax.
And he has shaped it as a child that is to nurse
And he has made two eyes of glass
He's asked his mother to the christening day
And he has stood all close by as he could
That he might hear what she did say."
"And who was it who took out the nine witch knots
Braided in amongst this lady's locks
And who was it who took out the combs of care
Braided in amongst this lady's hair
And who was it the master kid did slay
That ran and slept all beneath this lady's bed
That ran and slept all beneath her bed
And who was it unlaced her left shoe
And who was it who has let her lie to be
That she might bear her baby son?"
And it was Willy who took out the nine witch knots
Braided in amongst this lady's locks
And it was Willy who took out the combs of care
Braided in amongst this lady's hair
And it was Willy the master kid did slay
And it was Willy who unlaced her left shoe
And he has let her lie to be
And she has borne her baby son
And many and great were the blessings them upon
And great were the blessings them upon
And she has borne her baby son
And many and great were the blessings them upon
And great were the blessings them upon
The Diggins-oh
(Anon)
I've come back all skin and bone
From the diggins-oh.
And I wish I'd never gone
To the diggins-oh.
Believe me, 'tis no fun,
I once weighed fifteen stone
But they brought me down to one
At the diggins-oh.
I built a hut with mud
At the diggins-oh.
That got washed away by flood
At the diggins-oh.
I used to dig and cry,
It wouldn't do to die,
Undertakers charge too high
At the diggins-oh.
I paid for vittles with a frown
At the diggins-oh.
Three potatoes half a crown
At the diggins-oh.
Five shillings a four-pound brick
Butter at a shilling a lick,
They never give no tick
At the diggins-oh.
They tied me to a tree
At the diggins-oh.
With my nuggets they made free
At the diggins-oh.
I escaped from harm and hurt
Though they stole my very shirt
I had to paint myself with dirt
At the diggins-oh.
I felt quite a ruined man
At the diggins-oh.
Thought, I'll get home if I can
From the diggins-oh.
I was always catching cold,
And I've been both bought and sold,
Like many more, for gold
At the diggins-oh.
Ballad
(W.H.Auden)
O what is that sound which so thrills the ear
Down in the valley drumming, drumming?
Only the scarlet soldiers, dear, the soldiers coming.
O what is that light I see flashing so clear
Over the distance brightly, brightly?
On the sun on their weapons, dear, as they step lightly.
O what are they doing with all that gear
What are they doing this morning, this morning?
Only the usual manoeuvres, dear, or perhaps a warning.
O why have they left the road down there?
Why are they suddenly wheeling, wheeling?
Perhaps a change in the orders, dear, why are you kneeling?
O haven't they stopped for the doctor's care?
Haven't they reined their horses, their horses?
Why, they are none of them wounded, dear, none of these forces.
O is it the parson they want with white hair?
Is it the parson, is it, is it?
No, they are passing his gateway, dear, without a visit.
O it must be the farmer who lives so near;
It must be the farmer so cunning, so cunning:
They have passed the farm already dear, and now they are running.
O where are you going, stay with me here!
Were the vows you swore me deceiving, deceiving?
No, I promised to love you dear, but I must be leaving.
O its broken the lock and splintered the door,
O it's the gate where they're turning, turning;
Their feet are heavy on the floor and their eyes are burning.
The Mill
George Papavgeris
Where wind blows freely from the sea
And grass is never still
A ship of stone with many sails
There stands atop the hill.
Its capstan anchor never pulled
It has no keel or mast
Yet when the sails with wind are full
Like birds they wheel so fast.
As far as you can see from here
The barley and wheat that's grown
All down this chute will disappear
To be ground between the stones.
And when the baker has new flour
You smell it down the street
No one outside the county
Has tasted bread so sweet.
Their names will carve upon its door
The carters while they wait
And at the top a carving reads
Sixteen seventy eight.
When Nelson sailed his Victory
From here it could be seen.
And armies have marched and fed here since
Victoria was queen.
My father worked here all his life,
Before him his father too.
One day, my son, before too long
It will be left to you.
The miller's apron you will wear
And wear it do with pride
And may you always be as strong
As the wind that blows outside.
CHORUS
It counts no miles but centuries
It stands, yet is never still.
As long as there is air to breathe,
There's wind to turn the mill.
In summer heat and autumn rain
And even in winter chill,
As long as there is air to breathe,
There's wind to turn the mill
Ave
John Thompson / trad.
And we sang "Ave Maria"
And they told us what the words were
A homage to a lady, the purest of them all
The mother of the Christ-child
A woman of great beauty
The one who bore the son who was the saviour of us all
And we sang "Ave Maria"
And they taught us what the words were
The men in robes who loved no woman
But gave their lives to God
They taught us with their firm words
They taught us with their firm hands
And we wondered on the love of Mary, mother of the child
And we sang "Ave Maria"
We grew to know what all the words were
The words of love and cruelty
Of discipline and stone
They taught us all the things we mustn't do
And all the things we mustn't dream of
But I saw the love they spoke of
Shining through their lies
And we sang "Ave Maria"
But we forgot what all the words were
The message of a mother
Who'd touched the hand of God
The story of her sacrifice
To give her life up for another
And the son she bore so painfully
Who gave his life for love
And we sang "Ave Maria"
And we sang,
"Ave Maria, gratia plena
Dominus tecum, Ave Maria.
Benedictatu, benedictatu
In mulieribus
Et benedictus, fructis ventris tui, Jesu.
Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis
Sancta Maria, ora, ora pro nobis."
Moreton Bay
Frank McNamara - "Frank the Poet"
One Sunday morning as I went walking
By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray
I heard a convict his fate bewailing
As on the sunny river bank I lay
I am a native from Erin's island
But banished now from my native shore
They stole me from my aged parents
And from the maiden I do adore
I've been a prisoner at Port Macquarie
At Norfolk Island and Emu Plains
At Castle Hill and at cursed Toongabbie
At all these settlements I've laid in chains
But of all places of condemnation
And penal stations of New South Wales
To Moreton Bay I have found no equal
Excessive tyranny each day prevails
For three long years I was beastly treated
And heavy irons on my legs I wore
My back from flogging was lacerated
And often painted with my crimson gore
And many a man from downright starvation
Lies mouldering now underneath the clay
And Captain Logan he had us mangled
All at the triangles of Moreton Bay
Like the Egyptians and ancient Hebrews
We were oppressed under Logan's yoke
Till a native black lying there in ambush
Did deal this tyrant his mortal stroke
My fellow prisoners be exhilarated
That all such monsters such a death may find
And when from bondage we are liberated
Our former sufferings will fade from mind
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