'Twas on a Monday morning, all in the month of May Our ship she weighed her anchor, all for to sail away; The wind did from the southwest blow, for Lisbon we were bound, The hills and dales were covered, with pretty young girls around. I wrote a letter to Nancy, for her to understand That I should have to leave her, unto some foreign land, She said, My dearest William, these words will break my heart, Oh let us married be tonight, sweet Willie, before you start. [...]1
Lincolnshire Posy
Song Cycle by Percy Aldridge Grainger (1882 - 1961)
1. Lisbon  [sung text not yet checked]
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2. Horkstow Grange  [sung text not yet checked]
In Horkstow Grange there lives and old miser, you all do know him as I've heard tell, It was him and his man that we called John Bowlin', they fell out one market day. Pity them what see him suffer, pity poor old Steeleye Span, John Bowlin's deeds they will be remembered, Bowlin's deeds at Horkstow Grange. [...]1
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3. Rufford Park poachers  [sung text not yet checked]
A buck or doe, believe it so, a pheasant or a hare Were sent on earth for every man quite equally to share. So poacher bold, as I unfold, keep up your gallant heart, And think about those poachers bold, that night in Rufford Park. [...]1
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4. The brisk young sailor  [sung text not yet checked]
A fair maid walking all in her garden, a brisk young sailor she chanced to spy, He stepped up to her thinking to woo her, cried thus: Fair maid, can you fancy I? You seem to be some man of honour, some man of honour you seem to be, I am a poor and lowly maiden, not fitting, sir, your servant for to be. [...]1
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5. Lord Melbourne  [sung text not yet checked]
I am an Englishman to my birth, Lord Melbourne is my name; In Devonshire I first drew breath, that place of noble fame. I was beloved by all my men, by kings and princes likewise. I never failed in anything, but won great victories. [...]1
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6. The Lost Lady found  [sung text checked 1 time]
Subtitle: English dance-folksong
'Twas down in yon valley a fair maid did dwell, She lived with her uncle, they all knew full well, 'Twas down in yon valley where violets grew gay, Three gypsies betrayed her and stole her away. Long time she1d been missing, and could not be found; Her uncle, he searched the country around, Till he came to the trustee, between hope and fear, The trustee made answer, She has not been here. The trustee spoke over with courage so bold, I fear she's been lost for the sake of her gold, So we'll have life for life, sir, the trustee did say, We'll send you to prison, and there you shall stay. There was a young squire that loved her so, Oft times to the schoolhouse together they did go, I'm afraid she's been murdered, so great is my fear. If I'd wings like a dove I would fly to my dear. He traveled through England, through France and through Spain, Till he ventured his life on the watery main, And he came to a house where he lodged for a night, And in that same house was his own heart's delight. When she saw him, she knew him, and fled to his arms; She told him her grief while he gazed on her charms. How came you to Dublin, my dearest, I pray? Three gypsies betrayed me and stole me away. Your uncle's in England, in prison does lie, And for your sweet sake is condemned for to die. Carry me to old England, my dearest, she cried. One thousand I'll give thee, and will be your bride. When they came to old England her uncle to see, The cart it was under the high gallows tree; Oh, pardon, oh, pardon, oh, pardon I crave. I'm alive, I'm alive, your dear life to save. Then from the high gallows they led him away, The bells they did ring and the music did play, Every house in that valley with mirth did resound, As soon as they heard the lost lady was found.
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