Violet Sarah
Nicole Murray
We are travelling through a town this day and must have bread
And it's "Where can I find a good baker in this town?",
she said.
When we have supplies on board we shall both thirsty be
And it's "Where can I find a good alehouse in this town?",
said she.
Chorus: On the Violet Sarah, Violet Sarah
Beauty of the cut, jewel of the travelling water
On the Violet Sarah, Violet Sarah
Beauty of the cut, jewel of the travelling water
In the Beehive Tavern, by the towpath on the right,
We will sup on the finest of real ales, pint by pint.
In the Beehive Tavern, there's an ale called Dove's Delight
And it tastes of the raspberries in Summer, honey and sunlight.
Do you see that cloud-white swan with trailing cygnets three,
She comes asking for scraps at the galley, snapping viciously.
Don't throw aught into the cut for cygnet or for duck
Nor to wash in the vile green water only brings bad luck.
Climbing through the hedgerow, not a mile or three from Bath
We go dancing along in the meadow, all about the path.
Down the reedy bank unto the rivers shady brim,
We can hear that the Avon is calling us to come and swim.
Nancy, dearest Nancy, do not fall into the drink
As you're painting the name on your vessel, toes upon the brink.
Don't be so foul-tempered, dearest Nancy dripping wet
With a bruise like a blackberry and a mouthful of regrets.
Sitting in the bow we sing the green man song again,
And reprise it all afternoon, we sing hundreds of green men.
"Don't break my green man, don't break my green man.
Don't break my plaster cast of him. I like him a lot."
The Famous Flower of Serving Men
Traditional - Child No. 106
You beauteous Ladies, great and small,
I write unto you one and all
Whereby that you may understand
What I have suffered in this land.
I was by birth a Lady fair,
My father's chief and only heir
But when my good old father died
Then was I made a young Knight's bride.
But there came thieves late in the night
They robbed my bower, and slew my Knight
And left me there to die alone
With a heart more cold than any stone.
Yet though my heart was full of care
Heaven would not let me despair
Wherefore in haste I changed my name
From Fair Elise to Sweet William
And therewithal I cut my hair
And drest myself in mans attire
The thing that I delighted on
Was for to be a Serving-man.
With a silver Rapier by my side
So like a gallant I did ride;
And at the last I chanced so
Unto the Kings Court I did go.
Then to the King, I bowed, full low
My love and duty for to show
And so much favour I did crave
That a Serving-man's place I might have.
Stand up, brave youth the King reply'd,
Thy service shall not be deny'd;
But tell me first what thou canst do;
Thou shalt be fitted thereunto.
Wilt thou be Usher of my Hall
To wait upon my Nobles all?
Wilt thou be taster of my Wine
To wait on me when I shall dine?
Or wouldst thou be my Chamberlain
To make my bed both soft and fine?
Would thou be one of my own guard?
Choose and I'll give thee thy reward.
Sweet William, with a smiling face,
Said to the King, If't please your grace
To show such favour unto me,
Your Chamberlain I fain would be.
The King then did the Nobles call
To ask the counsel of them all,
Who gave consent Sweet William he
The King's own Chamberlain should be.
Now mark what strange things come to pass
The King one day a hunting was,
Sweet William had no company then
With him at home but one old man
And upon the Lute Sweet William played
And to the same he sung and said
With a pleasant and most noble voice
Which made the old man to rejoyce
"My father was as brave a Lord
As ever England did afford
My Mother was a Lady bright
My Husband was a valiant Knight
And I myself a Lady gay
Bedeckt with glorious rich array
The bravest Lady in the Land
Had not more pleasures to command
But now, alas, my Husband's dead
And all my friends are from me fled;
My former joys are past and gone
For now I am a Serving-man
At last the King from hunting came,
And presently upon the same
He called for the good old man
And thus to speak the King began:
What news, what news, old man? Quoth he,
What new hast thou to tell to me?
Brave news, the old man he did say,
Sweet William is a Lady gay!
Therefore the King without delay
Drest her in glorious rich array
And upon her head a crown of gold
Which was most famous to behold.
And then for fear of further strife
He took Sweet William for his wife;
The like of which was never seen
A Serving-man to be a Queen.
Jenny Greenteeth
Nicole Murray
Down by the rush of the river, a lover with aching heart
Saw Jenny there trailing her fingers, and thought she might be his
sweetheart
He stepped over to courteously greet her and stay a while by her
leave
And felt with a rush of emotion her hand twining into his sleeve.
I am called by the name of the river, though as Jenny they know
me here
The waters pour gracefully into this pool; I swim here but once
in the year
They talked and his gaze fell upon her robe, as green as the river-weed
He saw with a start what he took for a gown was her long hair wrapped
round her side
Come into the water and bathe, my love
Come swim in the swirling pool
Come down in the deep with the rocks and the stones
Come swim with me now, my jewel
Her emerald smile in the sunlight had captured his fearful eye
She slid like a seal in the wash of the stream and he felt the bank
slipping by
No time to cry that he could not swim, no time to draw in and breathe
With her hair round his ears and filling his mouth and her long
fingers twined in his sleeve
First chorus, then...
Come into the water and bathe, my love
Come swim in the swirling pool
Come down in the deep with the rocks and the bones
You'll swim with me now, sweet fool
Lay Me Low
A Shaker hymn adapted by John Tams
Chorus:
Lay me low. Lay me low.
Lay me low where no-one can see me
Where no-one can find me.
Where no-one can hurt me.
Show me the way, help me to say
All that I need to
All that I needed you gave me
All that I wanted you made me
When I stumbled, you saved me.
Throw me a line, help me to find
Something to cling to
When the loneliness haunts me.
When the bitterness taunts me
When the emptiness leaves me.
The Jovial Beggar
Traditional
There was a jovial beggar, he had a wooden leg
Lame from his cradle and forced for to beg
Chorus:
And a begging we will go, we will go,
And a begging we will go
A bag for his oatmeal, another for his salt
And a pair of crutches to show that he can halt
A bag for his wheat and another for his rye
A little bottle by his side to drink when he is dry
I begged for my master and made him store of wealth
But thanks to our Prime Minister, I now beg for myself
To Pimlico we'll go and we shall all merry be
With every man a can in his hand and a wench upon his knee
It's underneath a bridge I live, I pay no rent
Providence provides for me and I am well content
I have no fear of danger, I live in open cell
Who would be a king, when a beggar lives so well?
The Ballad of the Shape of Things
by Sheldon Harnick
(from "The Littlest Revue", 1956)
Completely round is the perfect pearl
The oyster manufactures
Completely round is the steering wheel
That leads to compound fractures
Completely round is the golden fruit
That hangs from the orange tree
Yes the circle's shape is quite renowned
I'm sad to say it can be found
In the dirty low down run around
My true love gave to me
My true love gave to me
A perfect square is the velvet box
He said my ring would be in
A perfect square was the envelope
He wrote "farewell" to me in
A perfect square is the handkerchief
I flourish constantly
As it dries my eyes of the tears I've shed
And blows my nose till it turns quite red
Yes a perfect square is my true love's head
He will not marry me
No, he will not marry me
Rectangular is the hotel door
My true love tried to sneak thru
Rectangular was the transom
Over which I had to peek through
Rectangular was the hotel room
I entered angrily
Now rectangular is the wooden box
Where lies my love 'neath the grazing flocks
They said he died of the chicken pox
In part I must agree
One chick too many had he
Triangular is the piece of pie
I eat to ease my sorrow
Triangular is the hatchet blade
I plan to hide tomorrow
Triangular the relationship
That now has ceased to be
And the self-same shape is the garment thin
That fastens on with a safety pin
To a prize I had no wish to win
It's a lasting memory
My true love gave to me.
The Little Black Fox
Graham Pratt
As we were out a hunting
One morning in the spring
Both hounds and horses running well
Made the hills and valleys ring
But to out great misfortune
No fox there could be found
And the huntsmen cursed and swore but still
No fox moved over the ground
Upspoke our master huntsman
At the head of hounds rode he
"Well we have ridden for a full three hours
But no fox have we seen
"And there is strength in me
And I will have my chase
And if only the Devil himself come by
We'd run him such a race"
And then there sprung like lightening
A fox from out his hole
His fur was the colour of a starless night
His eyes like burning coals
They chased him over the valley
They chased him over the field
They chased him down to the riverbank
But never would he yield
He's jumped into the water
And he's swam to the other side
He's laughed so hard that the greenwood shook
Then he's turned to the huntsmen and cried
"Ride on my gallant huntsmen when must I come again?
Oh never shall you want a fox to chase a lonely plain
And when your need is greatest, just call upon My Name
I will come and you shall have the best of sport and game"
All the men looked up in wonder
All the hounds ran back to hide
For the fox had changed to the Devil himself
Where he stood at the other side
And men and hounds and horses
Went flying back to town
And hard on their heels came a little black fox
Laughing as he cried
"Ride on my gallant huntsmen when must I come again?
Oh never shall you want a fox to chase a lonely plain."
Muckle John
John Thompson
Chorus:
Follow the king of muse and fancy
See the brightly coloured one
Bells and whimsy, sights entrancing
Dance with Muckle John
You know me as Muckle John
A jester in the finest court
A man of mirth and whimsy fine
Come see what I have wrought
I entertain the court tonight
The noble folk are gathering
If the King he smiles, a happy night
His frown much sorrow brings
My little tricks bring them delight
They love to watch my charm and skill
Coil of shoe, bells so bright
My magic makes them love me still
Twenty years ago, I came to court
My craft to learn at master's hand,
I sorrow for what is to come
No students now to join my band
I am the last one of my kind
No more, the court the jester want
They have new games to bring delight
New charms to dwell upon
Pardon me now, while I dance for my master
My tired bones must gad about
To bring a smile as the music faster
Turns my magic out.
King Henry
Traditional - Child No. 32
Let never a man a wooing wend
That lacketh things three
A store of gold, an open heart
and full of charity;
And this was seen of King Henry
Though he lay quite alone,
For he's taken him to a haunted hall
Seven miles from the town.
He's chased the deer now him before
And the doe down by the den
Till the fattest buck in all the flock
King Henry he has slain.
His huntsman followed him to the hall
To make them burly cheer,
When loud the wind was heard to sound
And an earthquake rocked the floor.
And darkness covered all the hall
Where they sat at their meat.
The grey dogs, yowling, left their food
And crept to Henry's feet.
And louder howled the rising wind
And burst the fastened door,
And in there came a grisly ghost
Stamping on the floor.
Her head hit the roof-tree of the house,
Her middle you could not span,
Each frightened huntsman fled the hall
And left the king alone,
Her teeth were like the tether stakes,
Her nose like club or mell,
And nothing less she seemed to be
Than a fiend that comes from hell.
Some meat, some meat, you King Henry,
Some meat you give to me,
Go kill your horse you King Henry
And bring him here to me;
And terror struck him through the heart
And he knew he must comply
Or the bravest man in all the land
King Henry would die
Some meat, some meat, you King Henry,
Some meat you give to me,
Go kill your horse you King Henry
And bring him here to me;
He's gone and slain his berry brown steed
Though it made his heart full sore,
for she's eaten him up both flesh and bone,
Left nothing but hide and hair.
More meat, more meat, you King Henry,
More meat you give to me,
Go kill your grey-hounds King Henry
And bring them here to me;
He's gone and slain his good grey-hounds,
Though it made his heart full sore,
For she's eaten them up both flesh and bone,
Left nothing but hide and hair.
More meat, more meat, you King Henry,
More meat you give to me,
Go fell your goss-hawks King Henry
And bring them here to me;
And when he's slain his gay goss-hawks,
It made his heart full sore,
For she's eaten them up both skin and bone,
Left nothing but feathers bare.
Some drink, some drink, you King Henry,
Some drink you give to me,
Oh you sew up your horse's hide,
And bring in a drink to me;
So he's sewn up the bloody hide,
And a pipe of wine put in,
And she's drank it up all in one draught,
Left never a drop therein.
A bed, a bed now King Henry,
A bed you'll make for me,
Oh you must pull the heather green
And make it soft for me;
So he has pulled the heather green
And made for her a bed,
and taken has he his gay mantle
And o'er it has spread.
Take off your clothes now King Henry
And lie down by my side,
Now swear, now swear you King Henry,
To take me for your bride.
Oh God forbid, says King Henry,
That ever the like betide,
That ever a fiend that comes from hell
Should stretch down by my side.
When the night was gone and the day was come
And the sun shone through the hall,
The fairest lady that ever was seen
Lay between him and the wall.
Oh well is me, said King Henry
How long will you be my bride?
And out and spake that lady fair,
"Until the day you die"
For I was witched to a ghastly shape
All by my step-dame's skill
Till I should meet with a courteous knight
Who'd give me all my will
I've met with many a gentle knight
That gave me such a fill,
But you were the first of of noble birth
To give me all my will.
The Briar and the Rose
Tom Waits
I fell asleep down by a stream
And there I had the strangest dream
And down by Brennan's glen there grows
A briar and a rose
There's a tree in the forest and I don't know where
I built a nest out of your hair
And climbing up into the air
The briar and the rose
Well, I don't know how long it's been
But I was born in Brennan's glen
And near the end of spring there grows
A briar and a rose
I tried to tear them both apart
I felt a bullet through my heart
And all dressed up in Spring's new clothes
The briar and the rose
And when I'm buried and in my grave
Tell me so I may know
Your tears may fall to make love grow
The briar and the rose
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