Died of love
Language: English
There is an ale house in yon town where my love goes and sits him down, And he takes a young lass on his knee And that's a grief, a grief to me. A grief, a grief I will tell you why, Because she has more gold than I, But the gold will go and her beauty will pass, She'll become to a poor girl like me at last. Now all you fair maids take my advice And never trust a soldier twice, For he'll pass my door And he won't come in Now that my apron's to my chin. The father of this bairn's a dirty rat, He knows he's left a love begat, And if I die it 'll be a shame For he'll never know his father's name. Oh! dig my grave, dig it wide and deep, Place marble stones at my head and feet, And on my breast put a turtle dove So the world 'll know I died of love. ... Love.
Authorship:
- from Volkslieder (Folksongs) , Northumbrian [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Phyllis Margaret Duncan Tate (1911 - 1987), "Died of love", 1978, published 1980 [mezzo-soprano, clarinet, and piano], from Scenes from Tyneside, no. 5. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this page: Ton van der Steenhoven
This text was added to the website: 2010-02-05
Line count: 21
Word count: 167