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1. Greensleeves
Alas, my love, you do me wrong,
To cast me off discourteously.
For I have loved you well and long,
Delighting in your company.
(Chorus:)
Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my lady greensleeves.
Your vows you've broken, like my heart,
Oh, why did you so enrapture me?
Now I remain in a world apart
But my heart remains in captivity.
A famous English folk song, Greensleeves, was one of the most popular songs in England during the late 16thcentury. It was associated with Henry VIII, who wrote it to woo Anne Boleyn, his mistress and then his wife. Yet, it is believed to have no accurate historicity and is believed to be written during the Elizabethan era. The song flowed in a composition style and was heavily influenced by Italian music.
2. Scarborough Fair
Are you going?" "To Scarborough fair,"
parsley sage, rosemary, and thyme;
"Remember me to a lass who lives there,
For once she was a truelove of mine.
"And tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
parsley sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Without any seam or needlework,
And then she shall be a true love of mine.
"And tell her to wash it in yonder drywell,
parsley sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Where no water sprung, nor a drop of rain fell,
And then she shall be at rue love of mine."[6]
3. The Wellerman
From 1833 onwards, the Wellermen, on ships owned by Weller Brothers of Sydney, supplied provisions to New Zealand shore whaling stations from their base at Otakou.
1. There was a ship that put to sea,
The name of the ship was the Billy of Tea
The winds blew up, her bow dipped down,
O blow, my bully boys, blow.
Soon may the Wellerman come
And bring us sugar and tea and rum.
One day, when the tonguin' is done,
We'll take our leave and go.
2. She had not been two weeks from shore
When down on her a right whale bore.
The captain called all hands and swore
He'd take that whale in tow.
3. Before the boat had hit the water
The whale's tail came up and caught her.
All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her
When she dived down below.
4. No line was cut, no whale was freed;
The Captain's mind was not of greed,
But he belonged to the whale man's creed;
She took the ship in tow.
5. For forty days, or even more,
The line went slack, then tight once more.
All boats were lost (there were only four)
But still the whale did go.
6. As far as I've heard, the fight's still on;
The line's not cut and the whale's not gone.
The Wellerman makes his regular call
To encourage the Captain, crew, and all.
4. Farewell to the Gold
Shotover River, your gold it is waning;
It’s weeks since the colour I’ve seen.
But it’s no use just sitting and Lady Luck blaming,
So I’ll pack up and make the break clean.
Chorus (repeated after each verse):
Farewell to the gold that never I found,
Goodbye to the nuggets that somewhere abound;
For it’s only when dreaming that I see you gleaming
Down in the dark, deep underground
Well, it’s nearly two years since I left my old mother
For adventure and gold by the pound,
With Jimmy the prospector—he was another
For the hills of Otago was bound.
We worked the Cardrona’s dry valley all over,
Old Jimmy Williams and me.
But they were panning good dirt on the winding Shotover
So we headed down there just to see.
We sluiced and we cradled for day after day,
Making hardly enough to get by;
Until a terrible flood swept poor Jimmy away
During six stormy days in July
Information about the song
https://folksong.org.nz/fwltgold/index.html
5. JohnBarleycorn
There were three men come out of the west
Their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow,
John Barleycorn should die.
They’ve ploughed, they’ve sown, they’ve harrowed him in,
Throwed clods on his head.
And these three men made a solemn vow,
John Barleycorn was dead.
They’ve et him lie for a very long time
Till the rain from hea’en did fall,
And little Sir John sprung up his head
And soon amazed them all.
They’ve let him stand till midsummer day
Till he looked both pale and wan.
And little Sir John’s grown a long, long beard
And so become a man.
They’ve hired men with the scythes so sharp
To cut him off at the knee.
They’ve rolled him and tied him by the waist,
Serving him most barbarously.
They’ve hired men with the sharp pitchforks
Who pricked him to the heart.
And the loader, he served him worse than that
For he’s bound him to the cart.
They’ve wheeled him round and around the field
Till they came into the barn
And there they’ve made a solemn mow
Of poor John Barleycorn.
They’ve hired men with the crab-tree sticks
To cut him skin from bone,
And the miller, he has served him worse than that
For he’s ground him between two stones.
Here’s little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
And here’s brandy in the glass
And little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
Proved the strongest man at last.
For the huntsman, he can’t hunt the fox
Nor so loudly to blow his horn,
And the tinker, he can’t mend kettles nor pots
Come all jolly fellows who delight in being mellow
Attend unto me I beseech you
For a pint when it’s quiet, come boys let us try it
For thinking will drive a man crazy
Chorus (repeated after each verse):
I have lawns, I have bowers, I have fields, I have flowers
And the lark is my daily alarmer
So jolly boys now, here’s God speed the plough
Long life and success to the farmer
Come sit at my table, all those who are able
And I’ll hear not one word of complaining
For the tinkling of glasses all music surpasses
And I long to see bottles a-draining
For here I am king, I can laugh, drink and sing
And let no man approach as a stranger
Just show me the ass who refuses a glass
And I’ll treat him to hay in a manger
Let the wealthy and great roll in splendour and state,
I envy them not, I declare it
For I eat my own ham, my own chickens and lamb
And I shear my own fleece and I wear it
Were it not for my seeding you’d have but poor feeding
I’m sure you would all starve without me
But I am content when I paid my rent
And I’m happy when friends are about me.
I’ve a cellar well stored and a plentiful board
And a garden affords every dainty
7. Country Life
CHORUS
I like to rise when the sun she rises
Early in the morning,
I like to hear them small birds singing
Merrily upon the laylum.
And hurrah for the life of a country boy
And to ramble in the new-mown hay.
In spring we sow, at the harvest mow,
And that is how the seasons round they go.
But if all the times if choose I may
't would be rambling through the new-mown hay.
In winter when the sky is grey
We hedge and ditch our times away;
But in the summer when the sun shines gay
We go rambling through the new-mown hay.
8. Jug of Punch
As I was sitting with my jug and spoon
On one fine morn in the month of June;
A birdie sang on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was the Jug of Punch.
Too-ta-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-loo,
Too-ta-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-loo,
A birdie sang on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was the Jug of Punch.
What more diversion could a man desire
Than to sit him down by a neat turf fire,
A Kerry pippin to crack and crunch,
Aye, and on the table a jug of punch.
Too-ta-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-loo,
Too-ta-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-loo,
A Kerry pippin to crack and crunch,
Aye, and on the table a jug of punch.
The learned doctor with all his art
Cannot cure the impression that’s on the heart.
Even the cripple forgets his hunch
When he’s safe outside of a jug of punch.
Too-ta-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-loo,
Too-ta-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-loo,
Even the cripple forgets his hunch
When he’s safe outside of a jug of punch.
And when I’m dead and I’m in my grave
No costly tombstone will I crave.
Just lay me down in my native peat,
With a jug of punch at my head and feet.
Too-ta-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-loo,
Too-ta-loo-ra-loo, too-ra-loo-ra-loo,
Just lay me down in my native peat,
With a jug of punch at my head and feet.
9. Pleasant and Delightful
It was pleasant and delightful on a midsummer's morn
And the green fields and the meadows were all covered in corn;
And the blackbirds and thrushes sang on every green spray
And the larks they sang melodious at the dawning of the day,
And the larks they sang melodious (3×) at the dawning of the day.
Now a sailor and his true love were a-walking one day.
Said the sailor to his true love, “I am bound far away.
I'm bound for the East Indies where the load cannons roar
And I'm bound to leave you Nancy, you're the girl that I adore,
And I'm bound to leave you Nancy (3×) you're the girl that I adore.”
Then the ring from off her finger she instantly drew,
Saying, “Take this, dearest William, and my heart will go too.”
And as they were embracing tears from her eyes fell,
Saying, “May I go along with you?” “Oh no, my love, farewell,”
Saying, “May I go along with you?” (3×) “Oh no, my love, farewell,”
“Fare thee well my dearest Nancy, no longer can I stay,
For the topsails are hoisted and the anchors aweigh,
And the ship she lies waiting for the fast flowing tide,
And if ever I return again, I will make you my bride,
And if ever I return again (3×), I will make you my bride.”
10. Who’s the Fool Now
Oh, Martin said to his man,
CHORUS Fie, man, fie,
Oh, Martin said to his man,
CHORUS Who's the fool now?
Martin said to his man,
Fill thou the cup and I the can,
CHORUS Thou hast well drunken man, who's the fool now?
I saw the man in the moon
Clouting on St. Peter's shoon.
I saw the hare chase the hound
Forty miles above the ground
I saw a goose wring a hog
Saw a snail bite a dog
I saw the cheese eat the rat
Saw a mouse chase a cat
I saw a flea heave a tree
Twenty miles out to sea
I saw a maid milk a bull
Every pull a bucket full
The first printed version of this song appeared in Deuteromelia which was the second part of Pleasant Roundelayes, Delightful Catches, Freeman's Songs published by Thomas Ravenscroft of the Seven Dials in 1609. The theme is the degradation of drink, the master drinking out of the can and telling tall stories, whilst his servant drinking from the cup mocks him. In verse 2 the “Man in the Moon” is King Henry VIII and the man standing in St. Peter's shoes is the Pope. To clout in Old English means to mend; thus it was unlikely so see Henry VIII patching up his differences with the Pope as it was to see a cheese eat a rat.
Robin and Barry Dransfield