Padraic Colum: Four Facets

Song Cycle by Edgar Martin Deale (1902 - 1999)

?. A ballad maker  [sung text not yet checked]

Language: English 
Once I loved a maiden fair, 
Over the hills and far away, 
Lands she had and lovers to spare, 
Over the hills and far away. 

And I was stooped and troubled sore, 
And my face was pale, and the coat I wore 
Was thin as my supper the night before 
Over the hills and far away. 

Once I passed in the Autumn late, 
Over the hills and far away, 
Her bawn and barn and painted gate, 
Over the hills and far away. 

She was leaning there in the twilight space, 
Sweet sorrow was on her fair young face, 
And her wistful eyes were away from the place, 
Over the hills and far away. 

Maybe she thought as she watched me come, 
Over the hills and far away, 
With my awkward stride and my face so glum, 
Over the hills and far away. 

Spite of his stoop, he still is young, 
They say he goes the Shee among, 
Ballads he makes; I've heard them sung 
Over the hills and far away. 

She gave me good-night in gentle wise, 
Over the hills and far away, 
Shyly lifting to mine, dark eyes, 
Over the hills and far away. 

What could I do but stop and speak, 
And she no longer proud, but meek? 
She plucked me a rose like her wild-rose cheek -- 
Over the hills and far away.

To-morrow Mavourneen a sleeveen weds, 
Over the hills and far away, 
With corn in haggard and cattle in sheds, 
Over the hills and far away. 

And I who have lost her, the dear, the rare -- 
Well, I got me this ballad to sing at the fair, 
Twill bring enough money to drown my care, 
Over the hills and far away.

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?. The tin‑whistle player

Language: English 
'Tis long since, long since
 . . . . . . . . . .

— The rest of this text is not
currently in the database but will be
added as soon as we obtain it. —

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?. O, men from the fields  [sung text not yet checked]

Language: English 
O men from the fields,
  Come gently within,
Tread softly, softly,
  O men, coming in...

[For]1 [m'mhurnin]2 is going
  From me and from you
Where Mary will fold him
  With mantle of blue,

From reek of the smoke
  And cold of the floor
And [peering]3 of things
  Across the half-door.

O men from the fields,
  Softly, softly come through;
Mary puts round him 
  Her mantle of blue.

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Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada and the U.S., but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.

View original text (without footnotes)
1 omitted by Coulthard and Moeran
2 Coulthard, Moeran, and Weigl: "Mavourneen"
3 Moeran: "the peering"

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Total word count: 353