Fields of Athenry:

a memorial

for Ruth Barton and Don Lance

 

(that's pronounced "aw-ten-RYE" -- just in case you were wondering)

 

AVAILABLE FROM THE MISSOURI FOLKLORE SOCIETY, PO BOX 1757, COLUMBIA, MO 65205,

OR FROM CLYDE FARIES, 1554 NAPOLEON DRIVE, BONNE TERRE, MO 63628

$15.00 (INCLUDES WRAPPING AND POSTAGE)
 

or click here for a .pdf order form you can print out

ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE SALE OF THE FIELDS OF ATHENRY GO TO THE MISSOURI FOLKLORE SOCIETY TO SUPPORT ITS GOALS OF DISCOVERING, PROMOTING, AND PRESERVING MISSOURI'S FOLK HERITAGE.

 

Notes on the songs:

Come Take A Trip In My Airship

George Evans and Ren Shields, 1904

sung by Judy Domeny Bowen

Once, I loved a sailor.
Once, a sailor loved me.
But he was not a sailor,
that sailed on the wide blue sea.
He, sailed in an airship;
Sailed like a bird on the wing;
And every evening at midnight,
he would come to my window and sing:

Chorus:
Come take a Trip in my Airship,
come sail away to the stars!
We'll travel to Venus,
we'll sail away to Mars!
No one will see while we're kissing
No one will know as we spoon.
So come take a Trip in my Airship,
and we'll visit the Man in the Moon!

One night while sailing away from the crowds,
we passed by the Milky White Way.
While idly drifting, watching the stars,
he asked if I'd name the day!
Just by the Dipper, I gave him my heart,
the sun shone on our honeymoon.
We swore to each other, we never would part,
and we'd teach all the babies this tune.

 

Snow Dear (instrumental)

Cathy Barton and Dave Para with Knox McCrory

click here for real audio of the version sung byRalph Spencer Family, Coal Hill, Arkansas on November 20, 1976
http://www.smsu.edu/folksong/maxhunter/1591/
 
VERSE 1
My sweet Snow dear, by th moonshines
Thru th pines, while Mohawk sleeps
Let 'im sleep, thru th deep, your cowboy lover
Two hearts all covered
Now, after all th love we talk
--- --- -- --- fly away
While we --- no time to tarry
My sweet Snow Dear
VERSE 2
My pretty Snow Dear
Say, you love --- dear
From your side I'll never part
Every trail leads to your heart
It's time to marry no time to tarry
Let me carry you from here, my sweet Snow Dear

 

In the Pines

Clyde Faries and Kathy Fullmer with Vic Martin and Knox McCrory

click here for the score from the DigiTrad:
http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/pages/tiINPINES;ttINPINES;ttINPINE2.html
 
(This score available as ABC, SongWright, PostScript, Lilypond, or a MIDI file)
Pennywhistle notation and Dulcimer tab for this song is also available

In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines
I shivered where the cold winds blow
In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines
I shivered where the cold winds blow

Little girl, little girl, where'd you sleep last night?
Not even your mother knows
I stayed in the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines
I shivered where the cold winds blow.

The prettiest girl that I ever did see
Lived in the Georgia pines
And the only girl that I ever did love
I knew she'd never be mine

Little girl, little girl, what have I done
That makes you treat me so?
You caused me to weep and you caused me to mourn
Like I never done before

Little girl, little girl, don't you lie to me
Tell me where did you get that dress?
>From a man in the pines, where the sun never shines
I shivered where the cold winds blow

In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines
I shivered where the cold winds blow
In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines
I shivered where the cold winds blow
 

 

Nova Scotia

The Shade Tree Folk Company includes Jim Hickam, David Giles, Terry Wright, Barney Hartline, Jack Smoot and Stephanie Fridley

click here for the score from the DigiTrad: http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/pages/tiFARWELNS;ttFARWELNS.html

(This score available as ABC, SongWright, PostScript, Lilypond, or a MIDI file)
Pennywhistle notation and Dulcimer tab for this song is also available

The sun was setting in the west
The birds were singing on ev'ry tree
All nature seemed inclined to rest
But still there was no rest for me

  Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast
  Let your mountains dark and dreary be
  And when I am far away on the briny oceans tossed
  Will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?

I grieve to leave my native land
I grieve to leave my comrades all
And my aged parents whom I always held so dear
And the bonnie, bonnie lass that I do adore

The drums they do beat and the wars do alarm
The captain calls, we must obey
So farewell, farewell to Nova Scotia's charms
For it's early in the morning I am far, far away

I have three brothers and they are at rest
Their arms are folded on their breast
But a poor simple sailor just like me
Must be tossed and driven on the dark blue sea
 

 

The Dewy Dens of Yarrow

Cathy Barton and Dave Para

Click here for the lyrics and RealAudio file for the version sung by Max Hunter in Springfield, MO June 21, 1958, from the Max Hunter collection at SMSU (collected from Herbert Philbrick, Crocker, Missouri)

VERSE 1
There were five sons and two were twins
There were five sons of Yarrow
They all did fight for their own true love
In the Dewey Dens of Yarrow

VERSE 2
O, mother dear, I had a dream
A dream of grief and sorrow
I dreamed I was gatherin' heather bloom
In the Dewey Dens of Yarrow

VERSE 3
O, daughter dear, I read your dream
Your dream of grief and sorrow
Your love, your love, is lying slain
On the banks, in the dens, of Yarrow

VERSE 4
She sought him up and she sought him down
She sought him all thru Yarrow
An' then, she found her own true love
On the banks, in the dens of Yarrow

VERSE 5
She washed his face n' she combed his hair
She combed it neat an' narrow
An' then, she washed that bloody, bloody wound
That he got in the Yarrow

VERSE 6
Her hair, it was, three-quarters long
The color, it was yellow
She wound it 'round his waist so small
An' took him home from Yarrow

VERSE 7
O, mother dear, go make my bed
Go make it neat an' narrow
My love, my love, he died for me
I'll die for him tomorrow

VERSE 8
O, daughter dear, don't be so grieved
So grieved with grief an' sorrow
I'll wed you to a better one
Than you lost in the Yarrow

VERSE 9
She dressed herself in clean white clothes
An' away to the waters of Yarrow
An' there she laid her own self down
An' died on the banks of the Yarrow

VERSE 10
The wine that runs thru the waters deep
Come from the sons of Yarrow
For they all did fight for their own true love
In the Dewey Dens of Yarrow

VARIANTS:
0307 Derry Dems of Arrow
0584 Fair Willie Drowned in Yarrow

OTHER COLLECTIONS:
Child: 214 The Braes of Yarrow

 

Huckleberry Finn

sung by Barney Hartline and the Shade Tree Folk Company; written by Missouri composer Bob Dyer 1990, and recorded with his permission.

There's a moon on the Mississippi River tonight,
A side-wheel steamboat making up time.
There's a raft drifting by with a bunch of drunk men,
And I'm catfishing with my old friend, Jim.
The call me Huckleberry Finn, Finn, Huckleberry Finn,
Finn, Huckleberry Finn.

Well, I lived for a while up in Hannibal town,
But my daddy was a drunkard, and he beat me around.
So I left my friends, Joe, Tom Sawyer and Ben,
And went off a rafting with Jim.
They call me…

Well, we run by nights, and we laid up days.
Dawn turn the river to a smoky haze.
Lazin' in the shallows doing just as we please,
Me and Jim layin' there dreaming.
They call me…

Life slides by when you're living on a raft.
You never rightly know just what's gonna pass:
Sometimes danger, sometimes fun,
Sometimes, it's just a piece of driftwood.
They call me…

I never much cared for the civilized life.
I'd rather be out on the river at night,
Laying on my back and looking up at the stars,
Smoking on my pipe and just drifting.
They call me...

Steamboat chimbley's a'spewin' out sparks,
Fiddle music floating by in the dark,
There's a hoot owl calling from a cottonwood tree.
This lonesome old river keeps a' rollin'.
They call me…

 

Silver and Gold Twostep (instrumental)

Cathy Barton and Dave Para with Knox McCrory

 

The Spinning Wheel Song

sung by Faries and Fullmer with Martin and McCrory

by John Francis Waller (1810–94) in Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895.  1895.

 

MELLOW the moonlight to shine is beginning;

Close by the window young Eileen is spinning;

Bent o’er the fire, her blind grandmother, sitting,

Is croaning, and moaning, and drowsily knitting:

“Eileen, achora, I hear some one tapping.”

“’T'is the ivy, dear mother, against the glass flapping.”

“Eileen, I surely hear somebody sighing.”

“’T is the sound, mother dear, of the summer wind dying.”

Merrily, cheerily, noisily whirring,

Swings the wheel, spins the reel, while the foot’s stirring; 

Sprightly, and lightly, and airily ringing,

Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.

“What ’s that noise that I hear at the window, I wonder?”

“’T 'is the little birds chirping the holly-bush under.”

“What makes you be shoving and moving your stool on,

And singing all wrong, that old song of ‘The Coolun?’”

There’s a form at the casement—the form of her true-love—

And he whispers, with face bent, “I’ m waiting for you, love;

Get up on the stool, through the lattice step lightly,

We ’ll rove in the grove while the moon’s shining brightly.”

Merrily, cheerily, noisily whirring,

Swings the wheel, spins the reel, while the foot’s stirring;

Sprightly, and lightly, and airily ringing,

Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.

The maid shakes her had, on her lip lays her fingers,

Steals up from her seat—longs to go, and yet lingers;

A frighten’d glance turns to her drowsy grandmother,

Puts one foot on the stool, spins the wheel with other.

Lazily, easily, swings now the wheel round;

Slowly and slowly is heard now the reel’s sound’

Noiseless and light to the lattice above her

The maid steps—then leaps to the arms of her lover.

Slower—and slower—the wheel swings;

Lower—and lower—and lower the reel rings;

Ere the reel and the wheel stopp’d their ringing and moving,

Through the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving.

 

Dark Work

by David Giles

David Giles and Vic Martin with the Shade Tree Folk Company; the song, recorded here for the first time, expresses the thoughts of a soldier preparing for battle.

 

Iron Mountain Baby

Belden, Ballads and Songs Collected by the Missouri Folklore Society p. 419

sung by Judy Domeny Bowen

This song, which has perhaps passed into the oral tradition, was composed by John Barton in 1902, soon after the events it records, near Irondale. The tune is from "The Blind Child." The baby, found and raised by William Helms, lived until 1953.

Click here for the RealAudio file at the Max Hunter collection, sung by Laura Arthur, Springfield MO, November 2, 1972

Click here for the RealAudio file at the Max Hunter collection, sung by Mrs. Haden Robinson, Fayetteville, Arkansas on November 26, 1960

VERSE 1
I have a song I'd like to sing
It's awful but it's true
About a babe thrown from a train
By a Mother I know not who

VERSE 2
This poor little babe, a few days old
Was in a satchel lain
It little clothes around it fold
An' thrown out from the train

VERSE 3
The train was running at full speed
The Northbound Number Four
Just as they crossed the big river bridge
They cast it from the door

VERSE 4
It was Bill Helms who found this babe
He heard its helpless cry
An' took it home to his loving wife
She would not let it die

VERSE 5
They washed an' bathed its little face
An' soon they hushed its cry
God bless them, while they are alive
God bless them when they die

VERSE 6
This poor little babe, God bless its heart
I cannot tell its name
For it has a Mother to take its part
An' a Father just the same

VERSE 7
They called him William Moses Gould
Because he had no name
And if he lives to be a man
He'll bear it just the same

VERSE 8
This ends my song, my story is told
I'll say to all good-bye
Until we meet around the throne
In that bright home on high

(Laura tells what she knows about this baby.)

Tale of The Iron Mountain Baby

William and Sarah Jane Knight Helms with their adopted son, William Moses Gould Helms and the infamous satchel

This story reprinted from the St. Louis Iron Mountain & Southern Railway ALL ABOARD Vol.16

For any train fan, hearing the legend of the Iron Mountain Baby is a must. The story began in the mid-afternoon of August 14, 1902. A 72-year-old Civil War veteran and farmer was returning to a spot near the St. Louis Iron Mountain & Southern Railroad. He had stopped near the Irondale rail trestle where he wanted to pick up some lumber for a barn he was building. Over the course of his journey, he saw a northbound train, Number Four, speed by. Moments later, he heard what he thought to be field mice squeaking.

To the great surprise of William Helms, he found an old-fashioned telescope valise containing a small infant. He concluded that the infant had been tossed off the train; however, the reason why still remains a mystery to this very day. Some thought the baby may have traveled over 500 miles in that valise. When Helms discovered the valise, it had been torn and the baby was badly bruised and injured. No one knew for sure if the child was going to live. It had a dent in its head and its left arm and leg were also hurt.

Due to the loving kindness of the Helms family, the baby pulled through. The community concluded that the baby was no older than five days old when the horrible incident occurred. The baby boy was given the name, William Moses Gould Helms. William - for his rescuer; Moses - for being found by the river; Gould - for the owner of the railroad. The family was so concerned about finding out who this child had belonged to, that the story spread from coast to coast. The saga brought many women who claimed they were the baby's mother. However, when young William was 6, the Helms' decided that they loved him too much to let him leave. They became his legal parents through adoption.

When his father died, William moved with his mother to Salem, Missouri, where he graduated from high school. He then attended Braughton's University and Southwest State Teachers College at Springfield, MO. His schooling was financed by the Iron Mountain Railroad, which later became the Missouri-Pacific Line. In college, he learned the printer's trade which he practiced most of his life. He was married August 5, 1933 in St. Louis. He then moved with his wife, Sally, to Texas. They had one son, also named William.

It was said that the Iron Mountain Baby did not like all of the fame his remarkable story had brought him. It is rumored that his son didn't even know about his past. Helms died January 31, 1953 at the age of 51. He was brought back on the Iron Mountain Railway for his burial in Hopewell, MO. It was only the second time in his life that William Helms rode on a train. It was a small family service that received no publicity. Later, it was thought that his son had died at age 14 and his wife had gotten sick and moved back to St. Louis. No one is certain if she died from the illness. But the fact remains that his wife and child are not buried beside him.

William Moses Gould Helms

The Washington County, MO burial records list 'Sallie' Helms, 17 Sep 1904-September 1989 as being buried together with William Moses Gould Helms in the Hopewell Cemetery. William's adoptive parents, William (1835-1917) and Sarah Jane (1850-1925) (Knight) Helms, are also buried there. However, MO State Rep. Bob Behnen, who is a history buff, finds that, according to her death certificate, Sallie Helms was buried in Graceland Cemetery, Racine, WI (Wilson Funeral Home).

While the legend of the Iron Mountain Baby is a remarkable story, its ending is just as mysterious as its beginning. The fame of the found baby had received so much attention that a song had been written in remembrance of that fateful August day. Even though the tale of the Iron Mountain Baby is an old story, the mystery still remains unsolved of who the baby really was.

Click here for a page on the Iron Mountain Baby by Esther M. Ziock Carroll . There are photos of the train trestle from which the baby was thrown almost fifty feet (fortunately missing the river below)

Fire Over Texas

sung by Stephanie Fridley

© 2003 by Stephanie Fridley; honors the astronauts who died in the Columbia space shuttle disaster, February 1, 2003.

 

(Capo 1)

Am                   G         Dm                                Am

On a February morning, final seconds ticking by

C                                    G    Dm                                 Am

Waiting for your safe return, eyes upon the southern sky.

F                                                C

Now the clock's run down, we don't know what to do

Dm                                                     E7

We're all out of minutes, and there's still no sign of you.

 

And there's…

            Am                      G

            Fire over Texas, nothing can be done.

            F                                    C

            Roll on, Columbia, you won't be coming home.

            Am                       G

            Fire over Texas, hear the people cry.

             Dm                  E7                                       Am

            Pieces of your dream are falling from the sky.

 

 

Did you know you would be heroes when you left the Earth's embrace?

Living out the childhood dreams of those you left below, in the solitude of space.

Now we watch the sky as death comes like a thief,

Upturned faces shining with tears of disbelief.

And there's…

 

Shining star of your homeland, picture of your people's pride.

Light the way for others who will follow you, sailing on the rising tide.

Sailing unknown seas like mariners of old,

Your spirit roams a new frontier, magnificent and cold.

And there's…

 

On a February morning, gathered 'round to say our last goodbyes.

I can't help but wonder just how it might have been to see our home through your exploring eyes.

But I'll say a prayer and sing Amazing Grace,

Thankful for the good green earth and the sun upon my face.

 

And there's fire over Texas, nothing can be done.

Roll on, Columbia, we'll sing your spirit home.

Fire over Texas, hear the people cry,

Fire over Texas, but your dream will never die.

 

Spotted Pony Medley

Cathy Barton and Dave Para with Knox McCrory

 

Grandfather's Clock

Jim Hickam and the Shade Tree Folk Company

The song, written by Henry Clay Work in 1876 (and who gave the piece of furniture its name) may have passed into oral tradition. Jim Hickam says he owned one, but sold it because it kept breaking the wristbands. H.C. work also wrote the famous "Come Home, Father" and "Marching Through Georgia"

               

My grand-father's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a penny weight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.


[Chorus]

Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.


[Solo]

In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.


[Chorus]

Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.


[Solo]

My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire —
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place — not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.


[Chorus]

Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.


[Solo]

It rang an alarm in the dead of the night —
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight —
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.


[Chorus]

Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.

 

 

Barring of the Door

(Child #275)

sung by Kathy Fullmer and Clyde Faries

BARRING OF THE DOOR

It fell upon the Martinmas time
And a gay time it was then, oh
When our goodwife got puddings to make
And she's boiled them in the pan, oh.

The wind so cold blew south and north
And blew into the floor, oh
Quoth our goodman to our goodwife
Get up and bar the door, oh

My hand is in my hussyfskap
Goodman, as you may see, oh
If it shall never be barred this hundred year
It will ne'er be barred by me, oh

They made the pact betwixt them twa
They made it firm and sure, oh
That the first that ever a word should speak
Should rise and bar the door, oh

Then by there came two gentlemen
At twelve o'clock at night, oh
And they could neither see house nor hall
Nor coal nor candle light, oh

Now whether is this a rich man's house
Or whether it is a poor, oh
But never a word has one of them spoke
For the barring of the door, oh

So first they ate the white puddings
And then they ate the black, oh
Though muckle thought the goodwife to herself
Yet ne'er a word she spoke, oh

Then said the one unto the other
Here man, take ye my knife, oh
Do ye take off the old man's beard
And I'll kiss the goodwife, oh

But there's no water in the house
And what shall we do then, oh
What ails ye at the pudding brew
That boils into the pan, oh

Oh, up then started our goodman
And an angry man was he, oh
"Will ye kiss my wife before my eyes
And scald me with pudding brew, oh"

Then up and started our goodwife
Gave three skips upon the floor, oh
"Goodman ye spoke the foremost word
Ye must rise and bar the door, oh"


Click here for the score as ABC, SongWright, PostScript, Lilypond, or a MIDI file)
Pennywhistle notation and Dulcimer tab for this song is also available.

 

The West Plains Explosion

sung by Judy Domeny Bowen

The song describes the April 13, 1928 garage explosion which killed 32, 37 or 40 people (accounts vary) at a dance on the second floor. Author unknown; Vernon Dalhart ("Wreck of the Old 97") made a recording which brought the event to national attention.

Click here for the version sung by Mrs. Sam "Iva" Haslett, West Plains, Missouri on June 11, 1958, for the Max Hunter Collection

VERSE 1
In a little town of West Plains
In old Missouri state
T'was in the month of April
They saw the hand of fate

VERSE 2
The springtime flowers were blooming
The world was bright and gay
And no one dreamed the danger
Would come to them that day

VERSE 3
Was there the young folks gathered
One fatal Friday night
And to the dance they wandered
With hearts so gay and light

VERSE 4
And there they spent the evening
Without a thought of fear
For nothing came to warn them
That death was drawing near

VERSE 5
The dance was nearly over
The evening nearly past
When from the floor beneath them
There came an awful blast

VERSE 6
The building all around them
Came tumbling to the ground
And there they fought and struggled
But the hot flames beat them down

VERSE 7
How quick the scene was shifted
From one so gay and light
How hard the brave men struggled
To save their friends that night

VERSE 8
How sad the fears of loved ones
Who came at break of dawn
To see the great disaster
Where forty lives had gone

VERSE 9
We can't explain the reason
These awful things must come
But we should all be ready
To say, "Thy will be done"

VERSE 10
And tho Our hearts are weary
Our burdens hard to bear
We have one consolation
We'll meet them over there

 

Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ye

sung by Faries, Fullmer, McCrory, Martin and the Shade Tree Folk Company

This timely contribution is sung to the tune known as "When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again" (I always did think it was a pretty grim melody for a homecoming song). Click here for the score from the Digitrad.

 

While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy
A stick in me hand and a drop in me eye
A doleful damsel I heard cry,
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns
The enemy nearly slew ye
Oh my darling dear, Ye look so queer
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild
When my heart you so beguiled
Why did ye run from me and the child
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run
When you went for to carry a gun
Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home
All from the island of Sulloon
So low in flesh, so high in bone
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg
Ye're an armless, boneless, chickenless egg
Ye'll have to put with a bowl out to beg
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again
But they never will take our sons again
No they never will take our sons again
Johnny I'm swearing to ye.

 

Mingulay

(traditional rowing chantey from the Scots Hebrides)

The Shade Tree Folk Company

Heel ya ho, boys, let her go, boys
Heave her head round to the weather
Heel ya ho, boys, let her go, boys
Sailing homeward to Mingulay

What care we though white the spray is
What care we for the wind and weather
Heel ya ho, boys, let her go, boys
Sailing homeward to Mingulay

Heel ya ho, boys, let her go, boys
Heave her head round to the weather
Heel ya ho, boys, let her go, boys
Sailing homeward to Mingulay

Wives are waiting by the pierhead
Or looking seaward from the heather
Heave her round boys and we'll anchor
Ere the sun sets on Mingulay

Heel ya ho, boys, let her go, boys
Heave her head round to the weather
Heel ya ho, boys, let her go, boys
Sailing homeward to Mingulay

 

The Rape of Glencoe

Faries and Fullmer with Martin and McCrory

click here for an account of the historical events behind the song

(lyrics from Jim McLean, via the Mudcat Cafe)

Oh, cruel was the snow that sweeps Glencoe
And covers the grave o' Donald
Oh, cruel was the foe that raped Glencoe
And murdered the house of MacDonald

They came in a blizzard, we offered them heat
A roof for their heads, dry shoes for their feet
We wined them and dined them, they ate of our meat
And they slept in the house of MacDonald

They came from Fort William with murder in mind
The Campbell had orders King William had signed
"Put all to the sword"- these words underlined
"And leave none alive called MacDonald"

They came in the night when the men were asleep
This band of Argyles, through snow soft and deep
Like murdering foxes amongst helpless sheep
They slaughtered the house of MacDonald

Some died in their beds at the hand of the foe
Some fled in the night and were lost in the snow
Some lived to accuse him who struck the first blow
But gone was the house of MacDonald

incident occurred Feb 13, 1692. Song copyrighted ca. 1960
copyright Jim McLean
 

Rove, Riley Rove

Cathy Barton and Dave Para

Went up on a mountain
   Give my horn a blow
   Thought I hear my true love say
   Yonder comes by beau

   CHORUS:
   Rove Riley Rove
   Rove Riley Rove
   Rove Riley poor boy
   Ain't got nowhere to go

   Mama give me meat
   Mother give me bread
   Pretty girl give me one sweet kiss
   Like to done killed me dead
   CHORUS

   Went up on a mountain
   Done stripped me a load of cane
   Make me a barrel of molasses
   Sweet Miss Liza Jane
   CHORUS

   Daddy had a great big house
   A hundred stories high
   Every story in that house
   Was filled with chicken pie
   CHORUS

   Possum is a pretty thing
   Rambles in the dark
   Only time you know he's round
   When you hear old Ranger bark
   CHORUS (2X)
 

The Fields of Athenry

Faries and Fullmer with Martin and McCrory

this version written by Pete St. John, 1979; permission for use by MFS granted through Pete St. John/Saint Music.

By a lonely prison wall, I heard a young girl calling
"Michael, they have taken you away,
For you stole Trevelyan's corn,
So the young might see the morn.
Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay."

Chorus:
Low lie the fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry.

By a lonely prison wall, I heard a young man calling
"Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free
Against the famine and the crown,
I rebelled, they cut me down.
Now you must raise our child with dignity."

By a lonely harbor wall, she watched the last star fall
As the prison ship sailed out against the sky
For she lived to hope and pray for her love in Botany Bay
It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry.

Words as they appeared on an 1888 Broadsheet :

By a lonely prison wall
I heard a sweet voice calling,
'Oh Danny, they have taken you away.
for you stole Travelian's corn,
that your babes might see the dawn,
now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay.'

chorus
Fair lie the fields of Athenry
where we stood to watch the small freebirds fly.
Our love grew with the spring,
we had dreams and songs to sing
as we wandered through the fields of Athenry.

I heard a young man calling
'nothing matters, Jenny, when you're free
'gainst the famine and the crown,
I rebelled, they ran me down,
now you must raise our children without me.'

On the windswept harbour wall,
she watched the last star rising
as the prison ship sailed out across the sky
But she will watch and hope and pray,
for her love in Botany bay
whilst she is lonely in the fields of Athenry



ALSO AVAILABLE FROM MFS OR FROM CLYDE FARIES:

A BUNCH OF THYME:

22 HERITAGE SONGS BY FARIES AND FRIENDS.

ALL PROCEEDS GO TO MFS. $15.00 INCLUDES HANDLING AND POSTAGE.

 

FOR ADDITIONAL RECORDINGS BY CATHY BARTON AND DAVE PARA, VISIT WWW.BARTONPARA.COM


FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT JUDY DOMENY BOWEN'S MUSIC, VISIT WWW.JUDYDOMENYBOWEN.COM


TO CONTACT THE SHADE TREE FOLK COMPANY, E-MAIL hickam@clas.net
 

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