Six Folksongs from Prince Edward arranged by Robert Fleming

If you chance a-roving by Orwell Rear,
Go see the place to me so dear,
Trace up that river to its fountain fair,
There lies bonnie Lyndale, my dear and early home.

Go see the groves; are they growing green?
Are the glens as gladsome as they have been?
Are there peaceful homes there as I have seen?
Down in bonnie Lyndale, my dear and early home.

Does the ev'ning twilight such beauty bring?
Does the robin lilt and the milkmaid sing?
How goes life now where my memory clings?
Down in bonnie Lyndale, my dear and early home.

When the plowman plows, does he plow the lea[?]
Oh, I have plowed, yes I've plowed the sea,
I've sailed with sailors, with sailors free.
Far from bonnie Lyndale, my dear and early home.

If we all went back there what change there'd seem,
The long-legged loon and cardmurndane
Wailing to each other while tears would stream
Down in bonnie Lyndale, my dear and early home.

Oh ye hardy boys of Prince Edward Isle,
It's worth your time and it's worth your while,
To sing of spots that you love the best,
But I'll sing of Lyndale, my dear and early home.

It's not long ago, as soon you will,
A tramp thru this country this way he did steer.
A hard-looking ticket as ever you saw,
It was all he could do to keep clear of the law.
Derry down, down, down, derry day.

A snug little farmer who earns his bread,
He lives at the roadside some distance ahead,
The tramp bolted in, bid the farmer good-day,
And some dinner requested without more delay,
Derry down, down, down, derry day.

"Now," said the farmer, "Come listen to me,
There's very few dinners I'll ever give free.
I work from the dawn 'til the setting of sun,
A hard-earned dinner I get when I'm done,"
Derry down, down, down, derry day.

"Now," said the tramp, "I'll state you my case.
I once was a dud but I'm now a disgrace,
From a runaway horse that by chance took a fright,
I was tossed from his back in the air like a kite."
Derry down, down, down, derry day.

"I was soon picked up but was never the same;
From that day to this I have always been lame.
You can laugh if you like, but to me it's no fun;
I can job along slowly but never could run."
Derry down, down, down, derry day.

"Now," says the farmer, "Some dinner you'll get,
But there's work to be done that I must not forget.
My sheep has been in from the heat of the sun,
And you'll please stand and head them, it's this way they'll run."
Derry down, down, down, derry day.

Now the tramp was revolving the thought in his head,
How lucky he was a good dinner to get.
The ram came along and quickly sailed on,
And the tramp went ahead like a shot from a gun,
Derry down, down, down, derry day.

Oh the ram stepped back, smacked his lips and looked glad.
He said to himself, "For the first, that's not bad."
And aiming again where his legs separate,
He landed him over the farmer's front gate,
Derry down, down, down, derry day.

One night as I lay a-keeping my silent watch alone,
Some rambling thoughts came to my mind and caused me for to roam;
To go and leave Kitardine and the girl I did adore
But I thought it fit to take a trip the wild woods to explore.

I took my true love by the hand, and to help her I did say:
"The train it leaves tomorrow; my dear, I'm going away!"
And as we gently glide along we'll make the taverns roar;
Drink a health to old Kitardine and the girls we do adore.

Oh Kitardine is a pretty place and pretty girls therein.
You'd think that they were nightingales were you to hear them sing.
Where little lambs do sport and play down by their mother's side,
And the salmon, trout and pickerel in the streams do gently glide.

When I arrived in Sancook the people gathered round;
They said I was not able the tall pines to cut down.
But I could go as cookee if I kept snug and clean.
That was the very first time I missed Kitardine green.

And now the winter is over and the teams are coming out,
The boss he called the men to him to hire them for the route.
"It is to those who will stay here high wages I'll pay to ye,
And when the lumber is in old town the routers may go free."

My hand is getting tired, no more can I pen down;
But I hope our boss's lumber will arrive safe in old town.
For when we get to Bangor we'll make those taverns roar;
Drink a health to old Kitardine and the girls we do adore.

When women were first created
They were created out of man,
From a long and crooked rib;
Now deny it if you can.
From a long and crooked rib
Created women were,
That goes to show the crooked
Nature some women have.

To be a faithful wife for Adam
The Lord created Eve,
But they weren't long in the garden
When she did him deceive.
Oh Satan whispered in her ear
Her husband to betray
And most women are subject to that sin
Up 'til the present day.

I often heard men boast and say
They had a splendid wife,
And that they were enjoying all
The comforts of this life,
But if you would mislist them
It's quick they'd let you know.
No bridle reins would hold them in,
No spurs would make them go.

When women were first created
It was for a man's sake,
So proud are they like Lucifer;
Deceitful as a snake;
They'll dress themselves all in their best,
Like mermaids they will sing,
And when they get men in their snares,
Like serpents they will sting.

So now to conclude
And to finish out my rhyme,
I hope this will a warning be
For all of young mankind.
From trouble and a bad wife,
Kind fortune set me free,
And from great guns and bad women's tongues
O Lord deliver me.

O come all you good fellows, take warning from me
If ever a handsome young widow you'll see:
Take warning by one who was caught in the snare,
And of all young war widows I pray you beware.

As I went a walking one fine afternoon,
Down Tremont, by Briggan's past Coatman's Saloon,
I rounded a corner and happened to meet
A lady a-coming down Hanover Street.

She was dressed all in black costing hundreds or more;
I knew by her face I had seen her before.
And as she drew near me, in true Boston style,
I tipped her my hat and I gave her a smile.

She said: "Kind sir, you're a stranger to me,"
Says I, "My dear madam, offended don't be.
Although quite a stranger to you I may seem,
Won't you step into Coatman's and have an ice cream?"

She paused for a while and then gave her consent
And straight forward to Coatman's together we went.
She said she'd been walking and felt very weak,
And instead of an ice cream she'd have a beefsteak.

I sat down beside her, we chatted together
About this thing and that thing and changeable weather.
She told me her husband had gone to the war;
He was formerly conductor on the Chelsea horse-car.

She told me she lived on his bounty alone,
And over in Chelsea she had a swell home.
Thinks I to myself, "You are dressed mighty gay;
He must be a captain and draw extra pay."

She swallowed her steak at a two forty rate
And said she must go, it was growing quite late.
I offered her my arm, she soon gave her consent.
And down to the ferry together we went.

O the boat had just gone and we stood arm in arm
Waiting for the next one and thinking no harm,
When up stepped a ruffian and threatened my life,
And asked me what business I had with his wife.

"Your wife, kind sir?" It was all that I said,
He drew a revolver and aimed at my head,
Saying: "Prepare now for war for as soon as you speak"--
The story will be continued in the "Guardian" next week.

O how I long for solid roads in the merry month of June;
The birds they all sing gaily, all nature seems in tune.
Vacation is my happy time, how jolly I will feel
A-spinning down to Rustico on my seventy-six geared wheel.

I'll start in early morning and in an hour's ride
I'll spin into that little town, they call it Summerside
I'll take a couple of glasses there, which makes my head soon reel,
And the road gets strangely smoother for my seventy-six geared wheel.

Then on I go like Gallagher at my very level best,
And the next place that I come to, they call it Traveller's Rest,
Then Kensington does bring me up, you bet I'll merry feel
From travelling at such mighty speed on my seventy-six geared wheel.

I'll just drop into Clark's Hotel and there I'll rest a while,
Then on I'll press to Margate, a distance of three miles.
Then pleasant thoughts into my head involuntarily steal,
Until I arrive at Clinton on my seventy-six geared wheel.

Then Stanley Bridge comes next in view and a pretty place it is,
And when I cross the railroad track, you bet I'll let her whiz.
Then taking straight a southeast course past Simpson's and McNeil's
Until I arrive at Rustico on my seventy-six geared wheel.

Then opening up the garden gate I gallantly do score
Up the marble pathway and to the big front door.
There Mary, smiling sweetly, stands, you'll bet I'll happy feel
When I alight into her arms from my seventy-six geared wheel.