ROBIN HOOD.
TO A FRIEND
by
JOHN KEATS

No! those days are gone away,
And their hours are old and gray,
And their minutes buried all
Under the down-trodden pall
Of the leaves of many years:
Many times have winter's shears,
Frozen North, and chilling East,
Sounded tempests to the feast
Of the forest's whispering fleeces,
Since men knew nor rent nor leases.

No, the bugle sounds no more,
And the twanging bow no more;
Silent is the ivory shrill
Past the heath and up the hill;
There is no mid-forest laugh,
Where lone Echo gives the half
To some wight, amaz'd to hear
Jesting, deep in forest drear.

On the fairest time of June
You may go, with sun or moon,
Or the seven stars to light you,
Or the polar ray to right you;
But you never may behold
Little John, or Robin bold;
Never one, of all the clan,
Thrumming on an empty can
Some old hunting ditty, while
He doth his green way beguile
To fair hostess Merriment,
Down beside the pasture Trent;
For he left the merry tale
Messenger for spicy ale.

Gone, the merry morris din;
Gone, the song of Gamelyn;
Gone, the tough-belted outlaw
Idling in the "grenè shawe;"
All are gone away and past!
And if Robin should be cast
Sudden from his turfed grave,
And if Marian should have
Once again her forest days,
She would weep, and he would craze:
He would swear, for all his oaks,
Fall'n beneath the dockyard strokes,
Have rotted on the briny seas;
She would weep that her wild bees
Sang not to her--strange! that honey
Can't be got without hard money!

So it is: yet let us sing,
Honour to the old bow-string!
Honour to the bugle-horn!
Honour to the woods unshorn!
Honour to the Lincoln green!
Honour to the archer keen!
Honour to tight little John,
And the horse he rode upon!
Honour to bold Robin Hood,
Sleeping in the underwood!
Honour to maid Marian,
And to all the Sherwood-clan!
Though their days have hurried by
Let us two a burden try.

One of, I believe three, cheerful songs about ship wrecks that I know, this one with a happy ending.

The Mary Ellen Carter
(Stan Rogers)

She went down last October in a pouring driving rain.
The skipper, he'd been drinking and the Mate, he felt no pain.
Too close to Three Mile Rock, and she was dealt her mortal blow,
And the Mary Ellen Carter settled low.
There were just us five aboard her when she finally was awash.
We'd worked like hell to save her, all heedless of the cost.
And the groan she gave as she went down, it caused us to proclaim
That the Mary Ellen Carter would rise again.

Well, the owners wrote her off; not a nickel would they spend.
She gave twenty years of service, boys, then met her sorry end.
But insurance paid the loss to them, they let her rest below.
Then they laughed at us and said we had to go.
But we talked of her all winter, some days around the clock,
For she's worth a quarter million, afloat and at the dock.
And with every jar that hit the bar, we swore we would remain
And make the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.

Rise again, rise again, that her name not be lost
To the knowledge of men.
Those who loved her best and were with her till the end
Will make the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.

All spring, now, we've been with her on a barge lent by a friend.
Three dives a day in hard hat suit and twice I've had the bends.
Thank God it's only sixty feet and the currents here are slow
Or I'd never have the strength to go below.
But we've patched her rents, stopped her vents, dogged hatch and
porthole down.
Put cables to her, 'fore and aft and girded her around.
Tomorrow, noon, we hit the air and then take up the strain.
And watch the Mary Ellen Carter Rise Again.

For we couldn't leave her there, you see, to crumble into scale.
She'd saved our lives so many times, living through the gale
And the laughing, drunken rats who left her to a sorry grave
They won't be laughing in another day. . .
And you, to whom adversity has dealt the final blow
With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go
Turn to, and put out all your strength of arm and heart and brain
And like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.

Rise again, rise again - though your heart it be broken
And life about to end
No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend.
Like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.

As a gaming aside, one of the most famous ships in Traveller: the New Era was named after this ship, and bore the motto 'That Her Name Not Be Lost'.

The Auld Grump

"THE LOVELY NORTHERN LASS,

who in this ditty here complaining shews
What harm she got milking her daddy's ewes."'

To a pleasant Scotch tune called
The Broom of Cowdon Knowes.


THROUGH Liddersdale as lately I went,
I musing on did pass,
I heard a maid was discontent,
She sigh'd and said, alas!
All maids that ever deceived were,
Bear a part of these my woes,
For once I was a bonny lass
When I milkt my daddy's ewes.
With O the broom, the bonny broom,
The broom of Cowdon Knowes,
Fain would I be in the north country,
To milk my daddy's ewes.

My love into the fields did come
When my daddy was at home,
Sugar'd words he gave me there,
Prais'd me for such a one,
His honey breath and lips so oft,
And his alluring eye,
And tempting tongue hath woo'd me oft,
Now forces me to cry,
All maids, &c.

He joy'd me with his pretty chat,
So well discourse could he,
Talking of this thing and of that,
Which greatly liked me,
I was so, greatly taken with his speech,
And with his comely making,
He used all the words could be
To enchant me with his speaking.
All maids, &c.

In Danby forest I was born,
My beauty did excell,
My parents dearly loved me
Till my belly began to swell:
I might have been a prince's peer,
When I came over the Knoes,
Till the shepherd's boy beguiled me,
Milking my daddy's ewes.
All maids, &c.

When once I felt my belly swell,
No longer might I abide,
My mother put me out of doors,
And bang'd me back and side:
Then did I range the world so wide,
Wandering about the Knoes,
Cursing the boy that helped me
To fold my daddy's ewes.
All maids, &c.

Who would have thought a boy so young,
Would have us'd a maiden so,
As to allure her with his tongue,
And then from her to go
Which hath, alas, procured my woe,
To credit his fair shews,
Which now too late repent I do
The milking of the ewes.
All maids, &c.

I often since have wisht that I
Had never seen his face,
I needed not thus mournfully
Have sigh'd, and said alas;
I might have matched with the best,
As all the country knows,
Had I escap'd the shepherd boy
Helpt me to fold my ewes.
All maids, &c.

SECOND PART.

All maidens fair then have a care,
When you a milking go,
Trust not to young men's tempting tongues,
That will deceive you so;
Them you shall find to be unkind,
And glory in your woes;
For the shepherd's boy beguiled me,
Folding my daddy's ewes.
All maids, &c.

If you your virgin honors keep,
Esteeming of them dear,
You need not then to wail and weep,
Or your parents anger fear:
As I have said of them beware,
Would glory in your woes,
You then may sing with merry cheer,
Milking your daddy's ewes.
All maid's, &c.

A young man hearing her complaint,
Did pity this her case,
Saying to her, sweet beauteous saint,
I grieve so fair a face
Should sorrow so, then sweeting know
To ease thee of thy woes,
I'll go with thee to the north country,
To milk thy daddy's ewes.
All maids, &c.

Leander like I will remain,
Still constant to thee ever,
As Pyramus or Troilus
Till death our lives shall sever;
Let me be hated evermore
Of all men that me know,
If false to thee, sweetheart, I be,
Milking thy daddy's ewes.
All maids, &c.

Then modestly she did reply,
Might I so happy be,
Of you to find a husband kind,
And for to marry me;
Then to you I would, during life,
Continue constant still,
And be a true obedient wife,
Observing of your will.
With O the broom, the bonny broom,
The broom of Cowden Knowes,
Pain would I be in the north country,
Milking my daddy's ewes.

Thus with a gentle soft embrace,
He took her in his arms,
And with a kiss he smiling said,
I'll shield thee from all harms,
And instantly will marry thee,
To ease thee of thy woes,
And go with thee to the north country,
To milk thy daddy's ewes.
With O the broom, the bonny broom,
The broom of Cowden Knowes,
Fain would I be in my own country,
Milking my daddy's ewes.

Yangtse River Chantey

My lotus lady I'll see no more,
Away, boys, away-o
Since I left her on the China shore.
Away, boys, lift and walk away.
Away, boys, away-o
Blow me down that Yangtse River
Away, boys, lift and walk away.

When we first met she was like a queen,
Prettiest little thing that I'd ever seen.

She'd flashing eyes and long black hair,
All I could do was stand and stare.

The sweetest flower, my Yangtse honey,
My own good gal she spent my money.

I bought her silks and a golden comb,
Trouble's over now the anchor's home.

I blowed my silver for to win her,
Now there's nothing left but pork for dinner.

We're outward bound, cookie's in the galley,
Farewell, young moon, of the Yangtse Valley.

I was just at a party with John Roberts of Roberts & Barand. I had a wonderful time. In folk music circles I am counted as young!

The Auld Grump

*EDIT* Added link to a site that has an MP3 of the tune as well as the lyrics. (Charlie Ipcar's site - Charlie_Noble on Mudcat.)

Tam Lin

Child ballad #39A
The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, 1882-1898 by Francis James Child

1. O I forbid you, maidens a',
That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh,
For young Tam Lin is there.

2. There's nane that gaes by Carterhaugh
But they leave him a wad,
Either their rings, or green mantles,
Or else their maidenhead.

3. Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little aboon her knee,
And she has broded her yellow hair
A little aboon her bree,
And she's awa to Carterhaugh
As fast as she can hie.

4. When she came to carterhaugh
Tam Lin was at the well,
And there she fand his steed standing,
But away was himsel.

5. She had na pu'd a double rose,
A rose but only twa,
Till upon then started young Tam Lin,
Says, Lady, thou's pu nae mae.

6. Why pu's thou the rose, Janet,
And why breaks thou the wand?
Or why comes thou to Carterhaugh
Withoutten my command?

7. "Carterhaugh, it is my own,
My daddy gave it me,
I'll come and gang by Carterhaugh,
And ask nae leave at thee."

8. Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little aboon her knee,
And she has broded her yellow hair
A little aboon her bree,
And she is to her father's ha,
As fast as she can hie.

9. Four and twenty ladies fair
Were playing at the ba,
And out then came the fair Janet,
The flower among them a'.

10. Four and twenty ladies fair
Were playing at the chess,
And out then came the fair Janet,
As green as onie glass.

11. Out then spake an auld grey knight,
Lay oer the castle wa,
And says, Alas, fair Janet, for thee,
But we'll be blamed a'.

12. "Haud your tongue, ye auld fac'd knight,
Some ill death may ye die!
Father my bairn on whom I will,
I'll father none on thee."

13. Out then spak her father dear,
And he spak meek and mild,
"And ever alas, sweet Janet," he says,
"I think thou gaest wi child."

14. "If that I gae wi child, father,
Mysel maun bear the blame,
There's neer a laird about your ha,
Shall get the bairn's name.

15. "If my love were an earthly knight,
As he's an elfin grey,
I wad na gie my ain true-love
For nae lord that ye hae.

16. "The steed that my true love rides on
Is lighter than the wind,
Wi siller he is shod before,
Wi burning gowd behind."

17. Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little aboon her knee,
And she has broded her yellow hair
A little aboon her bree,
And she's awa to Carterhaugh
As fast as she can hie.

18. When she came to Carterhaugh,
Tam Lin was at the well,
And there she fand his steed standing,
But away was himsel.

19. She had na pu'd a double rose,
A rose but only twa,
Till up then started young Tam Lin,
Says, Lady, thou pu's nae mae.

20. "Why pu's thou the rose, Janet,
Amang the groves sae green,
And a' to kill the bonny babe
That we gat us between?"

21. "O tell me, tell me, Tam Lin," she says,
"For's sake that died on tree,
If eer ye was in holy chapel,
Or christendom did see?"

22. "Roxbrugh he was my grandfather,
Took me with him to bide
And ance it fell upon a day
That wae did me betide.

23. "And ance it fell upon a day
A cauld day and a snell,
When we were frae the hunting come,
That frae my horse I fell,
The Queen o' Fairies she caught me,
In yon green hill do dwell.

24. "And pleasant is the fairy land,
But, an eerie tale to tell,
Ay at the end of seven years,
We pay a tiend to hell,
I am sae fair and fu o flesh,
I'm feard it be mysel.

25. "But the night is Halloween, lady,
The morn is Hallowday,
Then win me, win me, an ye will,
For weel I wat ye may.

26. "Just at the mirk and midnight hour
The fairy folk will ride,
And they that wad their true-love win,
At Miles Cross they maun bide."

27. "But how shall I thee ken, Tam Lin,
Or how my true-love know,
Amang sa mony unco knights,
The like I never saw?"

28. "O first let pass the black, lady,
And syne let pass the brown,
But quickly run to the milk-white steed,
Pu ye his rider down.

29. "For I'll ride on the milk-white steed,
And ay nearest the town,
Because I was an earthly knight
They gie me that renown.

30. "My right hand will be gloved, lady,
My left hand will be bare,
Cockt up shall my bonnet be,
And kaimed down shall my hair,
And thae's the takens I gie thee,
Nae doubt I will be there.

31. "They'll turn me in your arms, lady,
Into an esk and adder,
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
I am your bairn's father.

32. "They'll turn me to a bear sae grim,
And then a lion bold,
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
And ye shall love your child.

33. "Again they'll turn me in your arms
To a red het gand of airn,
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
I'll do you nae harm.

34. "And last they'll turn me in your arms
Into the burning gleed,
Then throw me into well water,
O throw me in with speed.

35. "And then I'll be your ain true-love,
I'll turn a naked knight,
Then cover me wi your green mantle,
And hide me out o sight."

36. Gloomy, gloomy was the night,
And eerie was the way,
As fair Jenny in her green mantle
To Miles Cross she did gae.

37. At the mirk and midnight hour
She heard the bridles sing,
She was as glad at that
As any earthly thing.

38. First she let the black pass by,
And syne she let the brown,
But quickly she ran to the milk-white steed,
And pu'd the rider down.

39. Sae weel she minded what he did say,
And young Tam Lin did win,
Syne covered him wi her green mantle,
As blythe's a bird in spring

40. Out then spak the Queen o Fairies,
Out of a bush o broom,
"Them that has gotten young Tam Lin
Has gotten a stately-groom."

41. Out then spak the Queen o Fairies,
And an angry woman was she,
"Shame betide her ill-far'd face,
And an ill death may she die,
For she's taen awa the bonniest knight
In a' my companie.

42. "But had I kend, Tam Lin," said she,
"What now this night I see,
I wad hae taen out thy twa grey een,
And put in twa een o tree."

And one with a happier result for the Queen o' the Fair

Thomas the Rhymer

TRUE Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;
A ferlie he spied wi' his e'e;
And there he saw a ladye bright
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.

Her skirt was o' the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o' the velvet fyne;
At ilka tett o' her horse's mane,
Hung fifty siller bells and nine.

True Thomas he pu'd aff his cap,
And louted low down on his knee
'Hail to thee Mary, Queen of Heaven!
For thy peer on earth could never be.'

'O no, O no, Thomas' she said,
'That name does not belang to me;
I'm but the Queen o' fair Elfland,
That am hither come to visit thee.

'Harp and carp, Thomas,' she said;
'Harp and carp along wi' me;
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I will be.'

'Betide me weal; betide me woe,
That weird shall never daunten me.'
Syne he has kiss'd her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.

'Now ye maun go wi' me,' she said,
'True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me;
And ye maun serve me seven years,
Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be.'

She 's mounted on her milk-white steed,
She 's ta'en true Thomas up behind;
And aye, whene'er her bridle rang,
The steed gaed swifter than the wind.

O they rade on, and farther on,
The steed gaed swifter than the wind;
Until they reach'd a desert wide,
And living land was left behind.

'Light down, light down now, true Thomas,
And lean your head upon my knee;
Abide ye there a little space,
And I will show you ferlies three.

'O see ye not yon narrow road,
So thick beset wi' thorns and briers?
That is the Path of Righteousness,
Though after it but few inquires.

'And see ye not yon braid, braid road,
That lies across the lily leven?
That is the Path of Wickedness,
Though some call it the Road to Heaven.

'And see ye not yon bonny road
That winds about the fernie brae?
That is the Road to fair Elfland,
Where thou and I this night maun gae.

'But, Thomas, ye sall haud your tongue,
Whatever ye may hear or see;
For speak ye word in Elfyn-land,
Ye'll ne'er win back to your ain countrie.'

O they rade on, and farther on,
And they waded rivers abune the knee;
And they saw neither sun nor moon,
But they heard the roaring of the sea.

It was mirk, mirk night, there was nae starlight,
They waded thro' red blude to the knee;
For a' the blude that 's shed on the earth
Rins through the springs o' that countrie.

Syne they came to a garden green,
And she pu'd an apple frae a tree:
'Take this for thy wages, true Thomas;
It will give thee the tongue that can never lee.'

'My tongue is my ain,' true Thomas he said;
'A gudely gift ye wad gie to me!
I neither dought to buy or sell
At fair or tryst where I might be.

'I dought neither speak to prince or peer,
Nor ask of grace from fair ladye!'—
'Now haud thy peace, Thomas,' she said,
'For as I say, so must it be.'

He has gotten a coat of the even cloth,
And a pair o' shoon of the velvet green;
And till seven years were gane and past,
True Thomas on earth was never seen.

A friend of mine, Jennifer Caven sings Tam Lin quite nicely.

The Auld Grump

She Moved Through the Fair
Traditional

My love said to me
My mother won't mind
And me Father won't slight you
For your lack of kind
Then she stepped away from me
And this she did say
It will not be long, love
Till our wedding day.

She stepped away from me
And she moved through the Fair
And fondly I watched her
Move here and move there
She went her way homeward
With one star awake
As the swans in the evening
Move over the lake.

The people were saying
No two e'er were wed
But one has a sorrow
That never was said
And she smiled as she passed me
With her goods and her gear
And that was the last
That I saw of my dear.

I dreamed it last night
That my true love came in
So softly she entered
Her feet made no din
She came close beside me
And this she did say
It will not be long, love
Till our wedding day.

I have heard a slightly different version of this, where the last verse goes - My dead love come in... it means a very different thing when a dead love tells you that your wedding day is coming soon...

And a rather grimmer wedding night song:

The Griesly Bride

Lie still my newly wedded wife,
Rest easy as you can.
You're young and ill accustomed yet,
To lying with a man...

The snow was deep, the moon was full,
As it shown on the cabin floor.
His young bride rose, with ne'er a word,
To run barefoot through the door.

Up he went and after her,
and an angry man was he.
But his young bride wasn't e're in sight.
And only the moon shown clearly.

He followed her tracks in the new deep snow,
Calling aloud her name.
But only the dingos in the hills,
Howled back at him again...

Her nightgown lay upon the snow,
As it would on a bed sheet.
And the tracks that followed after then,
Were never of human feet.

Ant the stood up along his neck,
And his angry mind was gone.
For where the two foot track left off,
A four foot track went on.

First he began to walkin' back.
Then he began to run.
His quarry turned, all in her tracks,
And hunted him in turn.

An empty bed still waits for him.
He lies in a crimson tide.
Beware, beware, bold trapper man.
Beware of a griesly bride...

I first heard this tune from Catherine Rhodda, Words by John Manifold, music by Tom Campbell.

The Auld Grump

"Now to the Brocken the witches ride;
The stubble is gold and the corn is green;
There is the carnival crew to be seen,
And Squire Urianus will come to preside.
So over the valleys our company floats,
With witches a-farting on stinking old goats."

~Excerpt from Goethe's Faust~

Actually, Walpurgisnacht was this past Sunday. Today's Cinco de Mayo.

Hey! I have some old poetry too:

time draweth wrinkles in a fair face,
but addeth fresh colours to a fast friend,
which neither heat, nor cold, nor misery, nor place,
nor destiny can alter or diminish.

John Lyly, 1591

beauty, come to the hillside,
our bed be high on the hill,
four ages under fresh birches,
the mattress of green leaves
valanced with brilliant ferns,
a coverlet, against beating rain
of trees that check the shower.

dafydd ap gwilym, 1100's

And your point is ...?

Thanks, Paul, you get the point of this thread, unlike *gestures upward with eyebrows*, well, you know.

Another witchy song...

The Witch Of The Westmoreland

Pale was the wounded knight,
that bore the rowan shield
Loud and cruel were the raven's cries
that feasted on the field
Saying "Beck water cold and clear will never clean your wound
There's none but the witch of the Westmoreland can make thee hale and soond"

So turn, turn your stallion's head
'til his red mane flies in the wind
And the rider of the moon goes by
and the bright star falls behind
And clear was the paley moon when his shadow passed him by
below the hills were the brightest stars when he heard the owlet cry

Saying "Why do you ride this way,
and wherefore came you here?"
"I seek the Witch of the Westmorland
that dwells by the winding mere"
And it's weary by the Ullswater and the misty brake fern way
Til throught the cleft in the Kirkstane Pass the winding water lay

He said "Lie down, my brindled hound
and rest ye, my good grey hawk
And thee, my steed may graze thy fill
for I must dismount and walk,
But come when you hear my horn and answer swift the call
For I fear ere the sun will rise this morn ye will serve me best of all"

And it's down to the water's brim
he's born the rowan shield
And the goldenrod he has cast in
to see what the lake might yield
And wet she rose from the lake, and fast and fleet went she
One half the form of a maiden fair with a jet black mare's body

And loud, long and shrill
he blew til his steed was by his side
High overhead the grey hawk flew
and swiftly did he ride
Saying "Course well, my brindled hound, and fetch me the jet black mare
Stoop and strike, my good grey hawk, and bring me the maiden fair"

She said "Pray, sheathe thy silvery sword.
Lay down thy rowan shield
For I see by the briny blood that flows
you've been wounded in the field"
And she stood in a gown of the velvet blue, bound round withh a silver chain
And she's kissed his pale lips once and twice and three times round again

And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod,
full fast in her arms he lay
And he has risen hale and sound
with the sun high in the day
She said "Ride with your brindled hound at heel, and your good grey hawk in hand
There's none can harm the knight who's lain with the Witch of the Westmorland."

The Auld Grump, who remembers being very surprised when reading of the Witch of Endor in the Bible, especially when she tells King Saul 'You're too skinny, you need to eat more!' Suddenly she changed in my mind from necromancer to Jewish mother...

This is just about the saddest song that I know - and I am somebody who has been *thwacked!* by a girl who then asked if I knew any happy songs. This is the one she *thwacked!* me for.... (We were on a date at the time...)

ST. JAMES INFIRMARY BLUES

I went down to St. James Infirmary
To see my baby there,
She was laid out on the table
So still, so cold, so bare.

Went up to see the doctor,
"She's very low," he said;
Went back to see my baby
Good God! She's lying there dead.

I went down to old Joe's barroom,
On the corner by the square
They were slingin' the booze as usual,
And the usual crowd was there.

On my left stood old Joe McKennedy,
And his eyes were bloodshot red;
He turned to the crowd around him,
These are the words he said:

Let her go, let her go, God bless her;
Wherever she may be
You can search this wide world over
And never find another man like me.

Oh, when I die, please bury me
In my ten dollar Stetson hat;
Put a gold piece on my watch chain
So they'll know I died standin' pat.

Get six gamblers to carry my coffin;
Get six pretty girls to sing me a song;
Get a jazz band to sit on my tailgate,
To play as we roll along.

Now that's the end of my story
Let's have another round of booze
And if anyone should ask you just tell them
I've got the St. James Infirmary blues....

There's lots of different versions, but this is the one that I know.

For Veteran's Day...

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda
Eric Bogle

When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in nineteen fifteen the country said, "Son,
It's time to stop rambling, there's work to be done."
And they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As our ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, flag-waving and tears
We sailed off to Gallipoli.

And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water.
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk he was waiting, he primed himself well,
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell,
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played Waltzing Matilda,
As we stopped to bury our slain.
We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

Now those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive,
But around me, the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead.
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I'll go no more Waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and free,
To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more Waltzing Matilda for me.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind and insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve and to mourn and to pity.

But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway.
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory.
And the old men marched slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war,
And the young people ask,"What are they marching for?",
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays Waltzing Matilda,
And the old men still answer the call.
But as year follows year, more old men disappear,
Someday no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me ?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me ?

The era that includes WWI had some of the most brutally savaged veterans of any. Some very depressing songs and poems came out of it.

The Auld Grump, fan of Wilfred Owens...

And one that I am working into a game....

Piper's Refrain (Duncan Campbell)
(Rich Nardin)

I'll tell it to you as they told it to me
By the glow of the campfire burning.
By the banks of the water where we sported and played,
They once faced the fury of battle.

CHO: And up through the Champlain came the Highland Brigade
The pipes and the drummer played "Scotland the Brave."
But when they sailed home the piper's refrain
Was, Oh, how cruel the volley."

To one Duncan Campbell it came in a dream
That he'd meet his fate where he never had been;
Where the blue waters roll and the stickerbush tear,
It's "Travel well, Duncan, I'll wait for you there.

"For the French and the Indian have challenged our King."
(To a soldier like Duncan, no need to explain.)
"It's many a time I've travelled the waves
To find my fate in the fire."

From Fort William Henry their boats have shoved off
To the North of Lake George in the morning;
To the place the Frenchmen call Carillon,
And the Indians: Ticonderoga.

And the word struck Duncan like a thunderbolt there;
Everyone knew of the warning.
"Oh, give us a tune to remember me by,
For tomorrow I'll not be returning."

When the gunpowder flashed, the Highlanders died,
Never again to walk the hillside.
In the wilderness green, in the sun and the rain,
It's here they're forever remaining.

And I've told it to you as they told it to me,
Of one Duncan Campbell and the Highland Brigade.
When the campfires flicker in the summertime's wane,
through the mist on the water comes the piper's refrain.

I would link to the MP3, but MP3.com is no longer what it once was....

Hmmm...
Let's see if I got it...

[1] Romantic...
[2] Mysterious...
[3] and sometimes a wee bit Naughty...


[1] Ghost of a Rose

The valley green
Was so serene
In the middle ran a stream so blue.
A maiden fair
In despair
Once had met her true love there, and she told him:

She would say...

"Promise me
When you see
A white rose you'll think of me.
I love you so
Never let go
I will be - your ghost of a rose..."

Her eyes believed
In mysteries
She would lay among the leaves of amber.
Her spirit wild
Heart of a child
Yet gentle still, quiet and mild and he loved her...

When she would say...

"Promise me
When you see
A white rose you'll think of me.
I love you so
Never let go
I will be - your ghost of a rose..."

When all was done
She turned to run
And danced into the setting sun as he watched her.
And ever more
He thought he saw
A glimpse of her among the moors forever

He'd hear her say...

"Promise me
When you see
A white rose you'll think of me.
I love you so
Never let go
I will be - your ghost of a rose..."


[2] On Sacred Ground

Downstream the river
The boat is moving on
Passing fields of silence
Long time gone
A paragon of beauty
A sacred holy ground
Gazing at in wonder
Safe and sound

Eternal bliss is reaching in
The valleys of the soul
The spirits of your fondest dreams are here
The purple patch of memories
In ruby letters carved
The archway of forgotten worlds appear

The wind dies down in this eve
In a wide land outward bound
Cast the anchor, roam a while on sacred ground
Flow on time forever
As if there was no yesterday
Roam on sacred ground right on your way

This land blooms forever
In amenety
The flare path of existence
Mystery

The chaliceof the purest wine
The cryptic colonade
The spirits gone to glory know the rhymes
Prevail them from oblivion
They're relics of the past
In a waking dream of former times

The wind dies down in this eve
In a wide land outward bound
Cast the anchor, roam a while on sacred ground
Flow on time forever
As if there was no yesterday
Roam on sacred ground right on your way

I can see the light
(I can see the light in here)
In the priming of the day
I can see the dawn
(I can see the dawn out there)
From the crest to golden bay

I am all ablaze
(I am all ablaze, on fire)
I was once lost, now I'm found
I'm not lonely here
(I'm not lonely, I'm not lost)
Roam a while on sacred ground
(So roam a while)

I have seen the light
I was once lost, now I'm found
I have seen the dawn
Roam a while on sacred ground


[3] Polkageist

One day whilst out exploring
In some far-flung foreing corner
I took respite from my journey
To admire the local fauna

When from the twilight distance
A peel of bells and laughter
Set my heart-strings fluttering
like bats through chapel rafters

On entering a clearing
I did sense impending peril
Beheld a gypsy wench
With flashing eyes bright, sharp and feral

She smiled at me so sweetly
(Bit a lip that smacked of danger)
Gave a look fit to disarm
This poor, unwitting stranger

Her rhythm pounced upon me
It trounced me in a trice
That charm she wove about me
gripped me tight as any vice

(She spoke in tongues above me)
Though I cast my eyes on Christ
You'd need the virtue of a saint
To not succumb - overcome this Polkageist

Arms of ivory strummed perfection
Summoned me toward the middle
Pan warmed up his pipes
Heard Herne a-plucking at the fiddle

She wrapped herself about me
(Felt her hot breath in my ear)
Danced a horizontal polka
Down the path to Hell I fear

We're on the path to Hell I fear!

Her rhythm pounced upon me
It trounced me in a trice
That charm she wove about me
gripped me tight as any vice

(She spoke in tongues above me)
Though I cast my eyes on Christ
You'd need the virtue of a saint
To not succumb - overcome this Polkageist

The Horny Huntress:
"A spirit sent to haunt you
Taunting all your earthly days
Satyrs vaut cavorting
To the reel Cerunnos plays

I head our wild procession
(every beast, from man to mouse)
Find freedom in possession
Polkageist is in the house!"

Juice of fruit beyond forbidden
dripping slowly from her fingers
she took my hand and led me
To the place where cunning lingers

Her rhythm pounced upon me
It trounced me in a trice
That charm she wove about me
gripped me tight as any vice

(She spoke in tongues above me)
Though I cast my eyes on Christ
You'd need the virtue of a saint
To not succumb - overcome this Polkageist

Don't know if this qualifies... A different version to when I first heard it, but it took me long enough to find this one.

Mermaid Song

When I was a lad in a fishing town
An old man said to me
Iain, you can live your life, your jolly life
A-sailing on the sea
You can search the world for pretty girls
Till your eyes are weak and dim
But don't go swimming with a mermaid, son
If you don't know how to swim

Her hair is green as seaweed
Her skin is blue and pale
You can love that girl with all your heart
But I tell you now before you start
You're just gonna love the upper part
You're not gonna like the tail

Well, I signed on to a whaling ship
On my first day at sea
I spied a mermaid in the waves
A-reaching out to me
Come live with me in the sea, said she
Down on the ocean floor
I'll show you a million wondrous things
You've never seen before
So in I jumped and down I swam
Down to the ocean bed
And a pillow made of turtle shells
She placed beneath my head
She fed me shrimps and caviar
Served on a silver dish
From her head to her waist she was just my taste
But the rest of her was a fish

Her hair was green as seaweed
Her skin was blue and pale
Her face it was a work of art
And I loved that girl with all my heart
But I only loved the upper part
I didn't like the tail

But then one day she swam away
To sing to the clams and whales
I missed her skin, I missed her hair
And the silvery shine of her scales
Then her sister came swimming by
Set my heart in a whirl
'Cause the upper half was an ugly fish
But the rest of her was a girl

Her toes were pink and rosy
Her knees were blue and pale
Her legs were a work of art
And I loved that girl with all my heart
I don't give a damn about the upper part
And that's how I end my tale

Harp Song of the Dane Woman
(Rudyard Kipling)

What is a woman that you forsake her,
And the hearth-fire and the home-acre,
To go with the old grey Widow-maker?

She has no house to lay a guest in---
But one chill bed for all to rest in,
That the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in.

She has no strong white arms to fold you,
But the ten-times-fingering weed to hold you---
Out on the rocks where the tide has rolled you.

Yet, when the signs of summer thicken,
And the ice breaks, and the birch-buds quicken,
Yearly you turn from our side, and sicken---

Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters.
You steal away to the lapping waters,
And look at your ship in her winter-quarters.

You forget our mirth, and talk at the tables,
The kine in the shed and the horse in the stables---
To pitch her sides and go over her cables.

Then you drive out where the storm-clouds swallow,
And the sound of your oar-blades, falling hollow,
Is all we have left through the months to follow.

Ah, what is Woman that you forsake her,
And the hearth-fire and the home-acre,
To go with the old grey Widow-maker ?

There was a young lady from Spain
Who liked to dance nude in the rain
One day just like that
She danced clothed in a hat
But her feet still got soaked just the same

*made it up myself*

Thanks for all the great songs, guys, keep them coming!

Love and xx oo
MO

Quae Laetitia

Let me show you my world
See through the eyes on this girl
Break these chains
Wash away the stains
Until nothing but a free mind remains

Maybe then you will see
What the beauty of life truely means
Take my hand
for the time we'll spend
On this journey through a new wonderland

Quae laetitia!
Quae maganimitas eximia!
Quae laetitia!
Quae magnitudo et psalmodia!
Celebrate! Jubilate!
Celebrate vitam et libertatem!
Celebrate! Jubilate! Ecce vita!

There's no place around
Where the beauty of life can't be found
Hear the wind
whisper tales and hymns
Of a new dawn about to begin

Quae laetitia!
Quae maganimitas eximia!
Quae laetitia!
Quae magnitudo et psalmodia!
Celebrate! Jubilate!
Celebrate vitam et libertatem!
Celebrate! Jubilate! Ecce vita!

Leave you past behind
Let go of the doubts in your mind
Change your ways
Here's the chance you craved
For a new start with the cleanest of slates

Quae laetitia!
Quae maganimitas eximia!
Quae laetitia!
Quae magnitudo et psalmodia!
Celebrate! Jubilate!
Celebrate vitam et libertatem!
Celebrate! Jubilate! Ecce vita!

Rolling Down to Rio
(Rudyard Kipling - Set to music by Tom Lewis.)

I never sailed the Amazon
And I never reached Brazil,
But the Don and the Magdalena
They can go there when they will,
And weekly from Southampton
Great steamers white and gold,
Go rolling down to Rio,
Roll down, roll down to Rio,
And I'd like to roll to Rio someday before I'm old.

I've never seen a jaguar
Nor yet an armadill - o,
A Dillo'ing in his armour,
And I s'pose I never will-o,
Unless I go to Rio,
These wonders to behold,
Go rolling down to Rio, roll really down to Rio,
And I'd like to roll to Rio someday before I'm old.
Yes I'd love to roll to Rio someday before I'm old.

(One of my favorite songs in regards to Steampunk settings - Kipling is good for that.)

Rio Grande
(Traditional)

Was you ever in Rio Grande?
Heave away for Rio!
It's there that the river flows down golden sand!
And we're bound for the Rio Grande!

Then away, boys, away,
Away down Rio,
So fare thee well, me Liverpool girls,
We're bound for the Rio Grande.

So it's pack up your sea-chest an' get underway,
The girls we are leavin' can have our half-pay.

Our ship went sailin' over the bar,
We've pointed her bow to the southern stars.

You Liverpool judies, we'll have you to know,
We're bound to the south'ard and glad for to go.

We're a Liverpool ship & a Liverpool crew,
You can stick to the coast but I'm damned if we do!

Goodbye to Ellen & Molly & Sue,
You Park Lane Judies, it's goodbye to you.

The Auld Grump, borrowed computer, + cable down due to storm. Connection ssslllooowww...

Been a while - now for something Christmassy.

Out on the River on Christmas Eve

Bon fire on the bank, hard bend to the right.
On the Lower Mississippi, full moon tonight.
Where the Spanish moss hangs from the trees,
Down in Louisiana, on Christmas Eve.

That muddy water never quite comes clear,
When I try to giver a reason why I wanna be here.
Ain't you got no family, no place to be?
Out on the river on Christmas Eve.

See reflections on a clear, black night.
Watching the shoreline come into sight.
Wanna hear steam, just wanna feel wind.
See the pitman arms come round again.

That muddy water never quite comes clear,
When I try to give a reason why I wanna be here.
Ain't you got no family, no place to be?
Out on the river on Christmas Eve.

John Hartford

And another steamer songs, Australian this time.

The Outside Track

THERE were ten of us there on the moonlit quay,
And one on the for’ard hatch;
No straighter mate to his mates than he
Had ever said: ‘Len’s a match!’
’Twill be long, old man, ere our glasses clink,
’Twill be long ere we grip your hand!—
And we dragged him ashore for a final drink
Till the whole wide world seemed grand.

For they marry and go as the world rolls back,
They marry and vanish and die;
But their spirit shall live on the Outside Track
As long as the years go by.

The port-lights glowed in the morning mist
That rolled from the waters green;
And over the railing we grasped his fist
As the dark tide came between.
We cheered the captain and cheered the crew,
And our mate, times out of mind;
We cheered the land he was going to
And the land he had left behind.

We roared Lang Syne as a last farewell,
But my heart seemed out of joint;
I well remember the hush that fell
When the steamer had passed the point
We drifted home through the public bars,
We were ten times less by one
Who sailed out under the morning stars,
And under the rising sun.

And one by one, and two by two,
They have sailed from the wharf since then;
I have said good-bye to the last I knew,
The last of the careless men.
And I can’t but think that the times we had
Were the best times after all,
As I turn aside with a lonely glass
And drink to the bar-room wall.

But I’ll try my luck for a cheque Out Back,
Then a last good-bye to the bush;
For my heart’s away on the Outside Track,
On the track of the steerage push.

Henry Lawson

The Auld Grump

Song of Fey Cross
By Gwen Knighton
© 1999

Outside of our town, at the edge of the forest
Two roads come together, they call it Fey Cross
And there at the crossroads, away from the roadside
There's an odd mound of granite all covered with moss

Chorus:
Oh, soft is the pillow, all green and inviting
Sweet is the sound of a new faerie tune
But beware of the voices that call you to sleep there
That call you to dream 'neath the light of the moon.

The old people say there is music at Fey Cross
Music to call travelers off of the road
That calls them to sleep on the moss-covered hillside
And dream of the magical music below

The story is told of a sweet harper maiden
Who longed to know more than her master bestowed
She slept on the hill and the faeries sang to her
The first night a dance and the second an ode

Chorus

Again and again she went back to the hillside
Ignoring the warnings her elders implored
Night after night, the fey songs touched her heartstrings:
She learned them all greedily, longing for more

Her voice rang like silver, her steps turned to marches
She did her chores gladly in three-quarter time
She stepped through the village and dreamed of the fey songs
Of dancing, of chanting, of cadence and rhyme.

Chorus

Each night she slept out on the hill by the crossroads
She stayed every night for a year and a day
But one night, as she lay there peacefully dreaming
A wee faerie bard came and whisked her away

They sing of her still in the town at the crossroads
The harper who longed to learn the fey songs
And all of the children grow up with this warning:
"Don't listen at all: you may listen to long."

Chorus

I see that you've slept seven nights on the hillside
I know your blood sings with beautiful songs
But hear now the voice of that foolish young harper
Who listened, who listened, who listened too long.

-Sung by the group - Three Weird Sisters Available on Last.FM

Starting with a link to this one - Eric Bogle wrote this song as a memorial for Stan Rogers. Safe in the Harbour.

Have you stood by the ocean, on a diamond-hard morning
And felt the horizon stir deep in your soul
Watched the wake of a steamer as it cut through blue water
And been gripped by a fever you just can't control
Oh to throw off the shackles and fly with the seagulls
To where green waves tumble before a driving sea wind
Or to lie on the decking on a warm summer's evening
Watch the red sun fall burning, be-neath the earth's rim

CHORUS:
But to every sailor, comes time to drop anchor
Haul in the sails, and make the lines fast
You deep water dreamer, your journey is over
You're safe in the harbor at last
You're safe in the harbor at last

Some men are sailors, but most are just dreamers
Held fast by the anchors they forge in their minds
Who in their hearts know they'll never sail over deep water
To search for a treasure they're afraid they won't find
So in sheltered harbors, they cling to their anchors
Bank down their boilers and shut down their steam
And wait for the sailors to return with bright treasures
That will fan the dull embers and fire up their dreams

CHORUS:
But to every sailor, comes time to drop anchor
Haul in the sails, and make the lines fast
You deep water dreamer, your journey is over
You're safe in the harbor at last
You're safe in the harbor at last

And some men are schemers who laugh at the dreamers
Take the gold from the sailors and turn it to dross
They're men in a prison, they're men without vision
Whose only horizon is profit and loss

CHORUS:
But to every sailor, comes time to drop anchor
Haul in the sails, and make the lines fast
You deep water dreamer, your journey is over
You're safe in the harbor at last
You're safe in the harbor at last
So when storm clouds come sailing across your blue ocean
Hold fast to your dreaming for all that you're worth
For as long as there's dreamers, there will always be sailors
Bringing back their bright treasures from the corners of earth

The Auld Grump

I mentioned Tom Lewis on the celebrities thread. Here's one of my favorites among his songs - a song about changing ways....

The Last Shanty
by Tom Lewis


M' father often told me, when I was just a lad,
A sailor's life was very hard, the food was always bad,
But now I've joined the navy, I'm on board a man-o-war,
And now I find a sailor ain't a sailor any more!

Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast,
If you see a sailing-ship it might be your last,
Get your civvies ready for another run ashore,
A sailor ain't a sailor ain't a sailor any more!

The 'killick' of our mess, he says we've had it soft,
It wasn't like this in his day, when he was up aloft,
We like our bunks and sleeping bags but what's a hammock for?
Swinging from the deckhead or lying on the floor?

They gave us an engine that first went up and down,
Then with more technology the engine went around,
We're good with steam and diesel but what's a mainyard for?
A stoker ain't a stoker with a shovel any more!

They gave us an Aldis Lamp, we can do it right,
They gave us a radio, we signal day and night,
We know our codes and ciphers but what's a 'sema' for?
A 'bunting-tosser' doesn't toss the bunting any more!

They gave us a radar set to pierce the fog and gloom,
So now the lookout's sitting in a tiny darkened room,
Loran does navigation the Sonar says how deep,
The Jimmy's 3 sheets to the wind, the Skipper's fast asleep.

Two cans of beer a day, that's your bleeding lot!
But now we gets an extra one because they stopped The Tot,
So, we'll put on our civvy-clothes and find a pub ashore,
A sailor's still a sailor, just like he was before!

The Auld Grump

One more set I found today:

http://artofmanliness.com/2008/09/23/th ... -shanties/

Heh, I knew all of them.

Does that make me a manly man? (Please gods, no tights!)

I have, I think, mentioned Barret's Privateers. This song is a bit of a counterpoint -

The Fame of Salem

Now come all you brisk young Salem lads that have a mind to venture
On board a Yankee privateer, your precious lives to venture,
On board that Salem privateer, and she is called the Fame,
She's cruising out of Salem sound, bound for the Gulf of Maine.

Singing, What Cheer-O, aboard the Fame of Salem,
What Cheer-O,
I'll tell you all the story, how they fought for fame and glory,
Singing, What Cheer-O.

Captain Webb had not sailed many leagues before he did espy
Two lofty ships a-windward, they came bearing down so nigh,
And both of them were British ships full loaded with supplies,
Webb made them haul their colors down and took them as his prize.

Ben Chapman took the Concord, and the Scots brig Upton got,
They took those British merchantmen and never fired a shot,
They've set a course for Salem town, their two prize ships astern,
And William Webb and his company were hailed at their return.

So come all you brisk young Salem lads, to the tavern we must go,
We'll sit the ladies on our knee and let the brandy flow,
And some unto their sweethearts, and some unto their wives,
And we'll sing Hallelujah to old Salem, my brave boys.

On her maiden voyage the Fame took two ships as prizes - totaling ten times what the fame herself had cost to commission.

The Auld Grump