File SONGTEXT.HTM, Latest additions/ corrections, Apr. 30, 2002

Some Old Songs, A Personal Choice

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     Gleanings of old songs, from manuscripts, songbooks, broadsides, and even a newspaper: English, Scots, Irish, and even a few American. A few are not known to have ever been printed.

     I have expanded Middle English thorns to 'th'. Spelling was modernized in printed works by about 1600, but manuscripts, even some copied from printed works, continued to use the thorn for about another 60 to 70 years. I don't know what to do about 'e' and 'o', these are sometimes indistinguishable. 'Shoo' is really 'shee', and 'hoo' is 'hee', but I have left the literal translations as found, as is common. Four verses of "Jerusalem my happy home" were copied onto scattered pages of a book in the Folger Shakespeare Library, along with the author's name which appears with the first verse as 'I Leigho', and so the librarians have given it in the Manuscript Index of Poetry. The name appears again with another verse, however, and this time clearly as 'I Leighe'. The superfluous trailing 'e' is extremely common, so the name is just 'J. Leigh', much more reasonable. [I. or J. was almost always 'John']

     I have deleted superscripts which are common in manuscripts and on 18th century single sheet songs with music. 'w' with superscript 't' is common for 'with' or 'what', and with superscript 'ch' is common for 'which'. 'y' with super script 'u' is 'you', and with superscript 'r' it is 'your'. The thorn which looks most like a 'p' in print, could also look like a 'y' in script, so 'y' with superscript 't' is not 'yat', it 'that' or even 'what', context tells which. 'yat' is a common mistaken translation.

     For purposes of comparison I have put English, Irish, and Scots texts together in some places, grouped by subject matter, or to same tune, so the division into Sections, English, Irish and Scots on the disk file is only nominal, and "Father Abney's Will" with English songs is actually American, and one under "Granuaile" is Irish-American historical of 1775. Sometimes for convenience of subject or tune I have grouped more than one sung under a finding code, but have tried to list all the songs given under the finding code, except for fragment and short excerpts, in the index below.

     Many of the tunes are in C. M. Simpson's The British Broadside Ballad and Its Music, BBBM, but I give a few here which Simpson didn't identify, usually Scots ones, e.g. "Robin Cushie" and "The Beds making". One of his big lapses was in noting "An the kirk wad let me be" came from a fragment in Herd's Scots Songs, but missing the fact that the first line there, "I am a silly old man", was the tune citation on a broadside issued before 1677, on which "The blythsome bridal" was based. The broadside text, "The Scotish Contract" is given below.

Some abbreviations used.
BUCEM - British Union Catalog of Early Music. 2 vols, 1957.
NTI - National Tune Index, 1980
CPC - J. Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, 12 books, 1743 - c 1760. Dates for the individual books were given together by James Dick in The Songs of Robert Burns, but these are the ones scattered through the pages of John Glen's Early Scottish Melodies, 1900
BL - British Library (London), formerly British Museum
NLS - National Library of Scotland, Edinburgh
SS - single sheet song with music.
SMM - Scots Musical Museum, 6 vols, 1787-1803[1804]
BBBM - C. M. Simpson's The British Broadside Ballad and Its Music, 1966.
PMOT - Wm. Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, 2 vols, 1855-8.
JFSS - Journal of the Folk-Song Society, London. Continued as:
JEFDSS - Journal of the English Folk Dance and Song Society. Continued as:
FMJ - Folk Music Journal.

Note: PLAY commands below are to tunes here in ABC. See note on home page for playing them. Tunes Bxxx are among the broadside ballad tunes. Others are in S1.ABC

...........................

Nonsense songs-Tentative outline:

Marvels, Brags, Lies, Impossibilities, etc. Note that often the singer states in the song that he is telling the truth, a sure indication that he isn't.

Anne Geddes Gilchrist gave several traditional examples in an article in JFSS, V, #20, 1942, supplemented it with a few more songs in JEFDSS, IV, 1942. She gave only songs she had collected, excepting "Martin said to his man", in the 1942 article, and really didn't go very far with the subject.

* Below, means the text will be found in Scarce Songs 1 (this file), and ** in Scarce Songs 2. Traditional songs can be located easily in Steve Roud's folksong index.

A: BRAGS- Narrator's fantastic accomplishments:
Taliesin's song in the 'Tale of Taliesin'*, in Forde's 'Mabinogion'; Whetstone for Lyers*; Jovial Broome man*; I was born about 10,000 years ago.

B: Narrator is participator or relator of farcical news, gossip, or fantastical events, but not primary instigator:
"Newes! newes! newes! newes! Ye never herd so many newes!" BL MS Cotton Vesp. A25* (This titleless song could possibly be represented by a Stationers' Register entry of Sept. 18, 1579 which is "Jone came over London bridge and told me all this geere". This date is same as the other latest pieces in the MS). Gossip Joan* (plus 2nd part and imitations, e.g., "How comes it neighbor Dick"). 'Old Woman of Ratcliffe Highway' (prose chapbook, entered in 1660, extract in Ashton's 'Chapbooks'. Early example of text with self-contradictory lines).

"Martin said to his man/ Hurrah Lie", "Tom Tell-truth"* and descendants: "A Shoulder of Mutton Jumped over from France", Cecil Sharp, JFFS 20, p. 292, 1916; As I was going to Banbury: 'A Selection of English Folk Songs', Sharp, Vaughn Williams and others, Novello. Also in Cecil Sharp's Collection of English Folksongs, and in Reeves, 'Idiom of the People', #7.

"Teague's Ramble"*, (imitation, but no direct borrowing of lines in "Paddy Backward"); "Nottamun Town"/ "Nottingham Fair" with directly borrowed lines from "Teague's Ramble" but also draws a little from "Tom Tell-Truth", above. "Nottamun Town" in 'English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians', II, p. 270. J. Ritchie, 'Singing Family of the Cumberlands', p. 115, 1955; "Nottingham Fair" in V. Randolph's 'Ozark Folksongs', III, p. 201. Bawdy parody in 'Roll Me In Your Arms', #83, 1992, with another long version, "Nottamon Fair" collected by Vance Randolph. "As I set off to Turkey", Reeves, 'Everlasting Circle', #4; "Bryan/Tom O'Lynn"**. "Benjamin Bowmaneer.

C: UTOPIA, (or other impossible places):
prose- Land of Cockagne, c 1400 (ballad or poem?); Jerusalem my happy home (1587)*; An Invitation to Lubberland*, (c 1685); Big Rock Candy Mountain, Oleanna. See especially Hal Ramel's book on comic Utopias in the US, 'Nowhere in America', 1990.

D: Marvelous Creatures:
Wonderful Crocodile, The Darby Ram, Red or Jolly Herring, Fod. Barely qualifying are: The sow took the measles and she died in the spring, Cutty Wren**.

E: X will happen when Y, string of impossibles, happen:
get married when - "Things Impossible", Gardner and Chickering, 'Ballads and Songs of Southern Michigan', from broadside "The young-mans Resolution to the Maids Request" (ZN269), and, with music, in 'Pills to Purge Melancholy.'

F: Impossible transformations to capture or escape:
prose- part of 2nd Kalandar's tale, 14th of 1001 Nights, prose- Ceridwen's capture of Gwion Bach in the Welsh 'Tale of Gwion Bach', broadside ballad- Two lovely lovers, c 1629*, (forerunner of) The Twa Magicians.
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Index:

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[Note, this is a long file, and if you don't have sufficient ram some links here may not work with your web browser, and you'll have to scroll down a ways and try again. Also try FIND on your web browser.]

Aileen Aroon (original?), Go to
Ah silly pugge wert thou so sore afraid (by Queen Eliz.), Go to
Alknomook (by Ann Hunter, 1782, not by any of 3 Americans), Go to
Ally Croker (by Larry Grogan), Go to
Amors of the Gods, Go to
Andrew & his Cuttie Gun, Mock Battle, Go to
Angel Gabriel (Carol), Go to
As I gaed to the well at e'en, Go to
As I walked by myself, Go to
Ay Waukin, O, Go to
Aye me, poor maid, Go to
Ballad of a Tyrannical Husband, Go to
Beauties Warning-piece Go to
Bess for Abuses, Mock Battle, Go to
Between two foxes, (riddle poem), Go to
Big Rock Candy Mountain, Cf. Utopia2, Go to
Birds flew over the Green, Go to
Birds Harmony, Go to
Bird's Noats on May Day Last (1655), Go to
Blackbird, The, Go to
Black Joke and Imitations (Anglo-Irish), Go to
Blow the Candle Out, Go to
The blazing torch is soon burnt out, Go to
Blythsome Bridal (original?), Go to
Bob and Joan (Irish); Go to
The Bob-Tail'd Lass, Go to
Bogidon Go to
Bonny Jean of Aberdeen Go to
Bonny Nick the Courier (Scots, c 1605), Go to
Bonny Paisley (with Boys of Kilkenny) Go to
Bonny Portmore, Go to
Border Widow's Lament, Go to
Boys of Kilkenny (original), Go to
Brandy, O, Go to
Brags, or lies Go to
Burning of Old John/ Wanton Widow (Folktale), Go to
Captain Barnswell, Go to
Captain McCan (bawdy Irish), Go to
Card Song (original), Go to
Carman's Whistle, Go to
Close and proper new ballad (missing rhyme), Go to
Clout the Caudron, Go to
Colly my Cow, Go to
Comber's Whistle, Go to
Come, come my sweet and bonny one, Go to
Consent at last, Go to
Contriving Lover (early Keech in Creel3), Go to
Cooper of Norfolk, ref., Go to
Country Kate's Conquest, Mock Battle, Go to
Country Lass and Taylor's measure, Go to
Couragio, Mock Battle, Go to
Courteous Shephardess, Go to
The Courtships, Go to
Crab of the Wood, Go to
Cricket and Crab-louse, Go to
Crossed Couple, (Folktale type 1355B), Go to
A Cuckold by Consent (Folktale), Go to
Cupid's Revenge, Go to
Dabbling in the dew, Go to
Dainty & Dorty (Scots Measure); Go to
A Dainty Duck, Go to
Damon faintly askt once; Go to
Darby's Key to Una's Lock; Go to
Dear Catholic Brother, Go to
Deed of entayle, Go to
Deplorable News from Southwark, Go to
Derby Ram,Go to
Derry's Fair, Go to
Diddle, Diddle, (Lavender's Blue), Go to
Digby's Farewell, Go to
Disappointed Widow, Go to
Down by the sea shore (Laws K17, original), Go to
Down in a garden sat my dearest love, Go to
Down in the North Country, Go to
Drowned Lover (Laws K17, original), Go to
Drumion Dubh (Drimindown, Irish); Go to
Edinburgh Ramble, Go to
Epitaphs, Go to
Fain I would, Go to
Fair Fidelia, tempt no more, Go to
Fancy Lad, Go to
Farmer's Curst Wife (original?), Go to
Farmer's Daughter of Merry Wakefield, Go to
Father Abney's Will (American, c 1729), Go to
Father Grumble, Go to
Fine Old English/ Irish Gentleman, Go to
Fineboy, Go to
Fit for any man (well qualified maid), Go to
Flee stately Juno Samo fro, Go to
Fleming bark in Edinburgh, Mock Battle Go to
Flowers of the Forest, Go to
Foggy, Foggy Dew (original), Go to
Forlorn Lover (The week before Easter), Go to
Fortune my Foe, Go to
Fortune hath taken thee away my love (S. Walter Raleigh), Go to
Four Drunken Maidens (early version), Go to
French Privateer, and City Caper, Mock Battles, Go to
Fright'ned Yorkshire Damosel (Foggy, foggy Dew), Go to
The Friar and the Nun (c 1500), Go to
Gardener Lad (original)Go to
Geld him, lasses, geld him, Go to
The Girl I left behind me (earliest?), Go to
Glasgow Lass's Garland, Go to
Go Sweet Lynes, Go to
Go to the kye wi' me Jonny, Go to
Gossip Joan (complete), Go to
Granuaile/ Commodore Gale; Go to
Greensickness Grief, Go to
Hans Carvel's Ring (Song versions of Folktale), Go to
Hawthorn tree, (complete) Go to
Henry Newel, Go to
Highland Tinker, The, appended to "Clout the Caldron" (qv)
Highlander's farewell to bonny port more, The Go to
An Historical Ballad, Go to
The Holland Smock, Go to
How Oxford Schollars Spend Their Time, Go to
The Huntsman's Delight (The Keeper), Go to
Husband with no courage in him, Go to
I came unto a Puritan to woo, Go go
I have a sister Sally, she's younger than I am, Go to
I never will marry, Go to
I saw me thought, Go to
I was born about four (or ten) thousand years ago, Go to
I'll go to my love where he lies in the deep, Go to
I'll never love thee more (early MS copy), Go to
In Good Old Colony Times, Cf., Go to
In secret place this hinder nycht, Go to
In Summer Time, Go to
In summer time, when flowers smell (Scots kiss), Go to
An Invitation to Lubberland (Big Rock Candy Mountain?), Go to
Jerusalem, my happy home, (by J. Leigh, 1587), Utopia1, Go to
Jockey shall have our Jenny (Scotch Wedding), Go to
John Robinson's Park, Go to
Jovial Broome man (with proper tune), Go to
Katy Cruel, Go to
Keech in the Creel, Cf., Go to
Keep Legs together, Go to
The Keeper, Go to
Kempy Kay, ref., Go to
Kettlebender, Go to
Kind Lad and Scornful Lass, Go to
Kind Robin loves me (original?) Go to
Kissing goes by favour, Go to
The Knave, Go to
Ladies Case (Waggoner's Lad opening), Go to
The Ladies Delight, or Narcissus his Love-Flower, Go to
Ladies Fort Beseiged, Mock Battle, Go to
The Ladies Lamentation, Go to
The Landlady of France, Go to
Langolee I and II (Irish), Go to
Larry Grogan (song as well as tune); Go to


Larry O'Gaff, Go to
Lass of Hexamshire, Go to
Last Christmas 'twas my chance (complete, original tune), Go to
Lavender's Blue, Go to
Little Leather Winged Bat, Go to
Loathly Lady, Go to
Love in a Trance, Mock Battle, Go to
Love is the cause of my mourning, Go to
Love's Fancy, or, the Youngman's Dream, Go to
Loves Victory Obtained, Mock Battle, Go to
MacPherson's Rant (original), Go to
A Maiden of late whose name was sweet Kate, Go to
Maid's call to the Batchelor, Go to
Maiden's Call to the Batchelors, (missing rhyme) Go to
Maiden's Dream, Go to
Maiden's Sad Complaint for Want of a Husband, Go to
Margaret my sweetest, Go to
Mars and Venus, Mock Battle, Go to
Mars and Venus, Go to
Maulkin was a country maide, Go to
Maulster's Daughter, Go to
Medicine for Maids (cure broken maidenhead), Go to
Merrie Ballad of Nash's DildoGo to
Merry New Song, Cooper Cuckolded, Go to
Moggie Lawther on a day (original), Go to
Monaghan Fair, Go to
Mossie and his mare, Go to
Mother, may I go out to swim (whole song), Go to
My dear and only love take heed, Go to
My Dog and I, Go to
My father has forty good shillings, Go to
My heart bleedeth, Invitation, Go to
My Heart's in the Highlands (original), Go to
My love is like,Go to
My man John, (among riddles) Go to
Nay pish (several songs), Go to
Nay pish, nay phew, in faith will you? fie!, Go to
Ned of the Hill, Go to
Nicol o Cod, Go to
The night before Larry was stretched, Go to
Nightingales Song, Go to
No, John, no John no, Cf., Go to
Nonsense, marvels, backwards, Go to
North-countrey Maids Resolution, Go to
Not far from town, a country squire, (Folktale), Go to
Nottamun Town/ Nottingham Fair, Go to
O quickly, Go to
O when shall I be married, Go to
Old Courtier of the Queen, Go to
Old Granny Wales [Granuaile]; Go to
Old Maid's complaint (I have a sister Sally), Go to
Oleanna, Cf. Utopia2, Go to
On holy even when winters nights wax longe, Go to
Once I lay with another man's wife (frag. of original), Go to
On the murder of Glencoe Go to Open the door and let me come in, Go to
Orpheus and Uridice (Farmer's curst wife), Go to
Outward Bound, Go to
Over the water to Charlie, Cf., Go to
The Patriarch, Go to
Patrick O'Neal (Irish sea song); Go to
The Pear Tree, Cf., Go to
Pearl of the Irish Nation, Go to
Peerless Paragon, Go to
Pinnace (Scots), Mock Battle, Go to
Pleasures of Sunderland (with Boys of Kilkenny) Go to
The Plenipotentary, appended to Shambuy Go to
Pollitick Beggar-Man & Jolly Beggar Go to
Popular poetry, (not songs, supplement at end) Go to
Portsmouth's Return, Go to
Presbyterian Cat, Go to
The Pretty Chambermaid (Folktale), Go to
Pretty Peggy Benson, Go to
Pretty Peggy of Derby, O (Irish); Go to
The pretty sweet Jenny she sat on a hill, Go to
A Puritan of Late, Go to
Queen of Love, or In the Wanton Season, Go to
Rakes of Mallow (unexpurgated), Go to
Rakes of Stony Batter; Go to
Rap at the Door, Go to
Repulsive (Repulsing) Maid, Go to
Robbie and Granny, Go to
Rob's Jock came to woo our Jenny, Go to
Rowin't in her Apron, Go to
Samuel and Sara (Constant Lovers), Go to
Scotch Moggy's Misfortune (Kind Robin loves me), Go to
Scotch Wedding (original?), Go to
The Scotish Contract (Blythsome Bridal, original?), Go to
Sea-mans leave taken.. Margery, Go to
Shawnbuy (Sean Buidhe), Go to
She lay all naked in her bed, Go to
A Shipload of Waggery, (missing rhyme) Go to
Shrowsbury for me (with Boys of Kilkenny) Go to
Some say that kissing's a sin, Go to
Shooting arrow, Go to
Sit you merry gentlemen (i.e,. God rest you, c 1650), Go to
Skew Ball, Go to
Soldier and Sailor (Congreve's), Mock Battle, Go to
Soldier's Joy, Go to
Some in the Town (The Hunt), Go to
Songs from Bassus, Go to
Spanish Merchant's Daughter, Cf., Go to
Strawberry Leaves make maidens fair, Go to
Stuttering Lovers, Go to
A Sup of good whiskey, Go to
Supper is na Ready, Go to
Sweetheart's Resolution, (among riddles)Go to
Taliesin's bragging song, Go to
Teague's Ramble (original of Nottamun Town), Go to
Tee hee, Go to
The Terrible Law, Go to
There came a fidler out of France, Go to
Thomas you cannot, Go to
Three sheep skins the wrong side outmost, Go to
Tit for Tat, Go to
Tom Brown's Delight (The Card Song), Go to
Tom Tell-truth, Go to
Tom Tinker's my true love, Go to
The True Englishman, Go to
The Twa Magicians, Cf., Go to
Two lovely lovers walking all alone, Go to
Una's Lock (Irish), Go to
Under her Apron Go to
Up with Aley, Aley, Go to
Venus and Adonis (19th and 17th cent.), Go to
Venus Sports, Go to
Virgin's Complaint for want of a Husband, Go to
Warrington Fair (Lancashire dialect) Go to
Watkin's Ale, Go to
Watten Towns End, Mock Battle, Go to
The way to woo a zealous lady (original and song), Go to
The week before Easter, Go to
We're a' kist sleeping, Go to
We're gayly yet, Go to
When Arthur first in Court Began, Go to
Where are you going my pretty maid, Go to
A Whetstone for Lyers, Go to
Whistle, daughter, whistle, Go to
Widow Brown, Go to
Widow of Westmorland's Daughter (Folktale), Go to
Wife of Auchtermuchty, Go to
Will the Weaver, Go to
Within the North Country, Go to
Woody Querristers, Go top
The Women's Complaint to Venus, Go to
Wooing Maid, the, by Martin Parker Go top
Ye Rakehells so jolly, Go to
You Jacobites by name (original, 1746), Go to
Young Barnwell, Go to
Young Man's Dream (Irish), and related pieces Go to
An Excellent new Song, Called, The Young-Mans Answer to the Maids Garden of Tyme(original)Go to
Young Roger's Conquest, Mock Battle, Go to
The Young Damsell's Resolution, Mock Battle, Go to

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Song Texts.

Section 1, mostly Irish.

Aileen Aroon

Ailen aroon an Irish Ballad Sung by M.rs [Kitty] Clive at ye theater Royal [Single sheet song with music.]

Du ca tu non Vanna tu Aileen aroon
San Duca tu non Vanna tu aileen aroon
Duca tu non Vanna tu
Duca tu non Vanna tu
Duca tu, Duca tu, Duca tu non Vanna tu
O Duca tu non Vanna tu aileen aroon.

Kead mille Faltie rote aileen aroon
Kead mille Faltie rote aileen aroon
Kead mille Faltie rote
Kead mille Faltie rote
Oct mille, nee mille, deh mille Faltie rote
O Faltie gus fine rote aileen aroon.

Tuca me sni anna me sgra ma chree stu
O Tuca me sni anna me sgra ma chree stu
Tuca me sni anna me
Tuca me sni anna me
Tuca me sni anna me sni anna me sgra me chree stu.
This and another edition of about the same date listed in BUCEM, p. 294. BUCEM lists another later edition printed in Dublin about 1770, as sung by 'Sigr Savoi at the Rotunda.' A copy with music, crediting Sigr Tenducci with singing it, was printed in Dublin in Exshaw's London Magazine, 1769. Although Exshaw's magazine was largely pirated from the London edition, the song was not in the 1769 issue of The London Magazine. The same song was printed without music in a songbook The Charms of Melody, Dublin, 1776. This probably stems from the singing of one of the two Italians mentioned below.

SONG LXIV.

Ducatu non vanutu Aileen Aroon,
San ducatu non vanutu Aileen Aroon;
     Ducatu nun vanutu, Ducata non vanutu,
     Ducatu, ducatu, ducatu, ducatu non vanutu,
O ducatu non vanutu, Aileen Aroon.

Kead mille faltierote Aileen Aroon,
Kead mille faltierote Aileen Aroon;
     Kead mille faltierote, Schat mille faltierote,
     Oct mille nee mille, deh mille faltierote,
O faltiegus fine root [rote] Aileen Aroon.

Tuca me sni anna me sgramachree hu,
O tuca me sni anna me sgramachree hu,
     Tucca me sni anna me, tucca me sni anna me,
     Tuca me, tucca me, tuca me sni anna me
O tuca me sni anna me sgramachree hu.
The first verse was printed to the tune by Domenico Corri in A Select Collection of the Most Esteemed Songs, Vol. III, p. 21, Edinburgh, n. d. [c 1798]

The song is in Gaelic, spelled phonetically, and apparently in Ulster dialect. [Private communication from Dr. Patrick A. G. O'Hare, ] Dr. O'Hare's literal translation of the 1776 version is as follows:

[Aileen Aroon, translated]

Will you go or will you stay, Aileen Aroon,
And will you go or will you stay, Aileen Aroon,
   Will you go or will you stay, 
   Will you go or will you stay, 
   Will you, will you, will you,
   Will you go or stay,
O will you go or will you stay, Aileen Aroon.

One hundred thousand welcomes to you Aileen Aroon,
One hundred thousand welcomes to you Aileen Aroon,
   One hundred thousand welcomes to you,
   Seven thousand welcomes to you,
   Eight thousand, nine thousand, 
   Ten thousand welcomes to you,
O welcomes and fine [?] root [?], Aileen Aroon.

I shall go and shall not stay love of my heart,
O I shall go and shall not stay love of my heart,
   I shall go and shall not stay,
   I shall go and shall not stay,
   I shall go, I shall go,
   I shall go and shall not stay,
O, I shall go and shall not stay, love of my heart.
A traditional version in JFSS VI (#25) 1925 (with music not given here) has only one verse (in Gaelic) which translated goes (with Eileen a riu/in = Eileen, darling):

Oh, I would drive the calves with you, Eileen, darling (bis)
Oh, I would drive the calves with you,
Westwards through the glens with you,
Hoping to be married to you, Eileen darling

The tune with title "Ellen a Roon" is first found in Charles Coffey's ballad opera The Beggars Wedding, 1729. Coffey's song there is unrelated to "Eileen Aroon". This was acted in both Dublin and London, and at least four editions of the play were printed in that year, with additions to each subsequent edition. The music was printed at the end of the 4th edition, but not with the 1st ed. Music is in some, but not all, copies of the 2nd ed. I have not found out if the music was included with the 3rd edition. The Folger copy of the 4th. edition, 1729, contains the music, as does another copy styled the 4th ed. by different printers, in 1731. The fifth edition, 1733, by yet a different printer does not contain the music.

The second printing of the tune is that on the single sheet song with music, from Kitty Clive's singing. According to Roger Fiske's English Theatre Music in the 18th Century, 2nd edit., p. 626, says that it was sung at Drury Lane Theatre on Aug. 3, 1742, and he hadn't seen any earlier example. However, in Arthur Scouten's et. all.'s The London Stage Kitty Clive is noted to have sung it in Dublin before she sang it at a production of The Man of Mode on Mar. 8, 1742. She sang it least 8 other times, until her last known singing of it in Apr. 1745.

The third printing of the tune seems to have been the elaborated version with a bass given by Burk Thumoth [Thomond of Burke] in Twelve Scotch and Twelve Irish Airs, John Simpson, London, n.d. (c 1744) In this work the tune is in the Irish section. This work contains an advertisement on the title page for James Oswald's A Collection of Curious Scots Tunes, which is known to have appeared in November, 1742, so Thumoth's book is probably to be dated 1743-4. I subsequently discovered that the deduction of a date of 1743 was also arrived at by Francis O'Neill in Irish Music and Musicians, Chicago, 1923? Old estimates of the date range from 1720 to 1760.

The tune was printed in Scots collections in the eighteenth century, and this has given rise to some Scots claims to the tune, however, the Irish evidently had a song to the tune, while the Scots seemed to know only Lady Keppel's song "Robin Adair," more on which below.

The fourth and fifth printings of the tune that I have come across are those in James Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, Book V, c 1753, and in his A Collection of Scots Tunes with Variations, c 1756. These were both published by Oswald after leaving Edinburgh in 1741 or 1742.

The tune from Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion is reprinted in James Dick's The Songs of Robert Burns, #45, p. 45, 1903, as the setting for Burn's song "Phyllis the Fair." Burns was actually familiar with the variant of the tune "Robin Adair," from a printing with music of Lady Caroline Keppel's song in a Scots songbook of the 1790's. Robert Burns, however, had met a Highland Scotsman who claimed that his mother had sung a Gaelic song to the tune. Unfortunately we do not have the title or a single line of the song, and we know that Burns was occasional misinformed, memory of far past events being notoriously error prone. I have not ascertained when the version of the tune "Robin Adair" first made its appearance. The song was by Lady Charlotte Keppel, probably between 1750 and 1760, and certainly before her marriage to her Irish "Robin" Robert Adair. The song is certainly not a Scots one.

A Cantata on the "Roast Beef of Old England" contains about 30 total verses using about a dozen different tunes. Among these are two non-descript verses to the tune of "Ellen Aroon." I do not know when this first appeared. It is in The London Songster , 1767; The Humming Bird, London, 1776; The Linnets, Wolverhampton, 1777; and in The British Muse, Newcastle, 1787, all without music. It is with music as a single sheet with music printed by J. Longman & Co., c 1780? On the latter and the first of the books above it is styled 'A Cantata taken from a Celebrated Print by the ingenious Mr. Hogarth.'

A song without title, set to the tune in Vocal Music, or, the Songsters Companion, London, n.d. [c 1778] [Single sheet ed, 'A favorite Irish ballad,' c 1770, noted in BUCEM], goes:

[Untitled song to the tune of "Aileen Aroon"]

   How sweet and how pleasing the birds sing in tune!
   How sweet and how pleasing the birds sing in tune!
   Gay prospects abounding, All nature resounding, 
   And will delight my sweet Ai---leen Aroon!
   And will delight my sweet Aileen Aroon. 
 
   The roses and li---lies in May and in June,
   The roses and lilies in May and in June,
   So charming and blooming, Around all perfuming,
   So charming and blooming, Around all perfuming,
   Are not half so sweet as my Aileen Aroon.

   When sultry bright Phoebus, makes fervid the noon,
   When sultry bright Phoebus, makes fervid the noon,
   In the grove or the bow'r I'll pass the long hour,
   And sing in the praise of sweet Aileen Aroon!
   And sing,---- sing in praise of sweet Aileen Aroon!
The latter song is also in The Thrush, London, p. 16, 1827.

A song to the tune "Aileen Aroon" was written and published by a songwriter in London, William Collins. His songs have tune directions which are mostly Irish tunes, and several of the songs are set in Ireland, and all are much better songs than the general run of Anglo-Irish songs, most of which are supposedly comic songs about the backwardness of the Irishman. His song is in his collection of sixty songs entitled The New Vocal Miscellany, 1787.

[Song]

   Ah haste to these arms sweet Sheela my dear,
     Ah haste to these arms sweet Sheela my dear,
   Poor Murtagh no ease can find
   Your image still haunts my mind;
   When Sheela is absent, each day seems a year,
     When Sheela is absent, each day seems a year.

   I'll travel to Dublin in search of my love,
     I'll travel to Dublin in search of my love,
   There, fly to the play each night,
   To meet my own heart's delight;
   And then to Kilkenny return with my love,   
     And then to Kilkenny return with my love.
[one more verse, not copied.]

Another song to the tune, headed:

Aileen a Roon

'The following very elegant paraphrase on the celebrated song of Aileen a Roon, by the late Rt. Hon. John Hely Hutchinson, Provost of Trinity College, Dublin, and first Secretary of State, is now published for the first time, from the original manuscript.' [Not quite true, see below]

Oh! welcome, my Aileen; the moment is blest
That brings thee to soothe ev'ry care of my breast;
   These eyes that behold thee,
   These arms that enfold thee;
   This faithful heart beating,
   In joy of our meeting,
Welcome a thousand times, Aileen a Roon.

My faithful companion* who walk'd by my side,
Flew away like the wind when my Aileen he spy'd:
   With music he greets thee,
   In rapture he meets thee,
   Now to thy side clinging;
   Now up to thy lap springing,
He welcomes, a thousand ways Aileen a Roon.

My flocks gaze and bleat as my Aileen draws nigh,
And my little stream flows more melodiously by;
   At her feet the flow'rs springing;
   The birds round her singing;
   In her presence delighting,
   All nature uniting,
Proclaims a glad welcome to Ailen a Roon.
 
Thy presence my Garden rejoices to hail,
And gives thee her welcome perfum'd in the gale,
   Amid' thy charms straying,
   Fond zephyrs are playing,
   Now on thy cheek lying,
   Soft breathing and sighing,
With whispers they welcome thee, Aileen a Roon.

The blossoms are clust'ring, more verdant the grove, 
And my fields smile with gladness to welcome my love,
   To thee all is owing,
   In thee pleasure showing;
   All objects appearing
   More soft and endearing,
What wonder we welcome thee, Aileen a Roon.

In their gayest apparel the shepherds appear,
And are thronging to see and to welcome thee here;
   Thy dear name resounding,
   From hill to hill rebounding;
   Fond echo conveying,
   And joyfully saying
Welcome, a thousand times, Aileen a Roon.

If to welcome thee all things in nature unite,
In what strains shall thy Donald express his delight?
   At sight of his treasure,
   Transported with pleasure;
   Thus gazing and pressing
   To his bosom his blessing--
He has scarce breath to welcome thee, Aileen a Roon.
* a favourite Spaniel

Above from a songbook without music, issued in 100 parts, of which there is no complete collection, The Charms or Melody, or Syren Medley, Dublin, n.d. [c 1795-1810, from paper watermark dates.]

Hutchinson is noted in D. J. O'Donoghue's The Poets of Ireland, as having a reputation as a poet, however, O'Donoghue could not locate any poetical pieces attributed to him. Hutchinson's death was given by O'Donoghue as Sept. 4, 1794. The song appears to be little known in Ireland, probably because it was published in London in The European Magazine, April, 1794, as "AILUN A' Roon," with an appended note, 'Words to Ailun A'Roon. By the Right Hon. J. H. H. Secretary of State for Ireland.' [Huntington Library, Catalogue of Music Printed Before 1801.]

I have not found when Gerald Griffin's familiar song "Aileen Aroon" was written. He was born about 1803, and stayed in Ireland to complete his education when his parents emigrated to the US about 1820. This is the one sung by Jean Redpath.

Play: S1, AILNRON, Tune from Beggars Wedding, 1729

Go to Index

Alley [Alicia] Croker [later, Croaker]

There liv'd a man in Ballinocrazy,
Who wanted a wife to make him uneasy;
Long had he sigh'd for dear Ally Croker,
And thus the gentle youth bespoke her,
   Will you marry me, dear Ally Croker?
   Will you marry me, dear Ally Ally Croker?

This artless young man, just come from the schoolery,
A novice in love and all its foolery;
Too dull for a wit, too grave for a joker,
And thus the gentle youth bespoke her -
   Will you marry me, dear Ally Croker?
   Will you marry me, dear Ally Ally Croker?

He drank with the father, he talk'd with the mother,
He romp'd with the sister, he gam'd with the brother,
He gam'd till he pawn'd his coat to the broker,
Which lost him the heart of his Ally Croker.
  O the fickle fickle Ally Croker!
  O the fickle Ally Ally Croker!

To all young men who are fond of gaming,
Who are spending their money while others are saving,
Fortune''s a jilt, the Devil may choak her,
A jilt more inconstant then Ally Croker.
   O the inconstant Ally Croker!
   O the inconstant Ally Ally Croker!
Larry Grogan was an Irish piper of the first half of the 18th century, traditionally credited with composition of "Ally Croker" about 1725. The tune for this is familiar as that for William Collins' "Golden Days of Good Queen Bess," George Colman's "Unfortunate Miss Bailey," (from Act 2 of 'Love Laughs at Locksmiths, premiered on July 25, 1803) song in The Whim of the Day for 1804 with tune direction "Ally Croaker", and Samuel Woodward's "The Hunters of Kentucky." T. Crofton Croker in Popular Songs of Ireland, 1839, related a traditional story about the composition of the tune for "Ally Croaker," about 1725. The song of that title was said to be written on rejection of his suit by a jilt, Alicia Croker. I had doubts about this story until I found that there is a single sheet copy of the song with music of about 1730, with Alicia Croker's last name spelled correctly. Unfortunately I have not seen a copy of this issue, which commences "There lived a man in Ballenocrazy". Other copies of the song and tune, of which there are many, stem from 1753, when it appeared as "Ally Croaker" in S. Foote's The Englishman in Paris. The tune under the "Ally Croaker" title appeared with and without the song in several publications over the next few years. A copy of the song "Ally Croaker" in The Universal Magazine, London, 1753, was termed "A New Song". This did not fool everyone. In G. A. Stevens' Songs, Comic and Satirical, 1772, is a song with tune direction "Ally Croker", not "Croaker", and therre are many other songs with the same tune direction.

Wm. Chappell in Popular Music of the Olden Time, II, p. 713, unaware of the early single sheet issues of "Ally Croker" assumed the song "Ally Croaker" originated in Foote's play. He stated that the tune appeared in Love in a Riddle, 1729, as the tune for a song "No more, fair Virgins boast your power". The tune in Love in a Riddle seems to me to be only vaguely similar to "Ally Croker". I have not run across any early copy of Wm. Collins' "The Golden Days of Good Queen Bess". With music it is in The British Musical Miscellany, p. 42, Edinburgh, 1805. As with George Colman later, Irish tunes were favorites with Collins and several, including some now unknown, are cited for songs in his The New Vocal Miscellany, 1787. [Unknown, at least to me, are "Pegeine O'Leary", "Pearl of Wicklow" and "Mortaugh Delany and Jenny O'Danelly"]

Reference to our song is made in: A song, "The Irish Proker", Sung by Mr. Dignum, The Charms of Chearfulness, or Merry Songster's Companion>, p. 145, 1789. - "About 20 years ago Ally Croaker made a great noise"

Play: S1, ALYCRK1, Love in a village
S1, ALYCRK3, Riley's Flute Melodies

Go to Index

Larry Grogan

The 18th century Irish song usually mentioned in connection with this tune is "The County Limerick Buck Hunt." There are copies of this without music in The New Merry Companion , London, c 1772, and in The Charms of Melody , Dublin, Sect. 2, p. 8, 1776, where in both it is entitled "On the Buck Hunt In the County of Limerick," with tune direction, "Larry Grogan." It also appears as "The Limerick Buck Hunt" in The Charms of Chearfullness, London, p. 81, 1781, with the same tune direction. I have always seen this as the tune direction, but James N. Healy in The Second Book of Irish Ballads printed the song, which he said was by a Pierce Creagh about 1735, (copying T. C. Croker's 'Popular Songs of Ireland', 1839) and gives a different tune, "Nac Mbaineann sin do". (Thumoth's '12 Scotch and 12 Irish Airs', c 1745 has a "Mr. Creagh's Irish Tune"). Another copy without music is in the 45th issue, c 1802-3, of the periodically issued The Charms of Melody, Dublin, c 1795 - 1810. The 'Buck Hunt' song commences:

By your leave Larry Grogan, Enough has been spoken, It's time to give over your sonnet, your sonnet; Come listen to mine sir, Much truer than thine sir, For these very eyes were upon it. It is of a buck slain, This very campaign, To let him live longer, 'twere a pity, 'twere a pity: For head and for branches, For fat and for haunches, Exceeding the mayor of a city, a city. [Alicia Croker reappears in this song in the fourth verse, Cf. ALYCRKR above]

The first half of this verse clearly refers to an older song about Larry Grogan, which is evidently our song "Larry Grogan".

The song "Larry Grogan" is much earlier than the songbooks in which it is appears, The Charms of Chearfulness, p. 143, London, 1781, and The Polite Songster, p. 377, North-Shields, 1781. It is without music or tune direction in either, but the title gives the tune. Note the fifth line, "We'll send for sweet Larry, be merry, be merry." A song "Robin John Clarke" in A Collection of Loyal Songs, Poems, 1750, has the tune direction, "sweet Larry, be merry," undoubtably from our song. "Robin John Clark" is printed from a manuscript, but with a different tune, in J. Hogg's Jacobite Relics, I, p. 24, 1819.

Larry Grogan.

Ye rakes that are jolly and hate melancholy,
   Who through the wide world are a jogging;
In the land of good ale did you never hear tell,
   Of that frolicksome lad Larry Grogan.
We'll send for sweet Larry, be merry, be merry;
   Hah, there is his bagpipe a humming;
Zounds boys join in chorus, hey! all the world for us,
   I knew the dear Joy was a coming.

Now peace with your singing, we'll make a'round ring, an
   Young Larry, shall play in the middle;
Now for it my ranter, one tune from your chanter,
   Shall beat the harp, hautboy or fiddle,
Your pipes Larry Grogan all other ones flogging,
   Tune up in a measure so frisky,
To hear Lanstrum pone what heart can be stony, [*
   While'er we've a bumper of whisky.

Come Larry play over the march of the rover,
   The rakes and the drunkards and troopers;
Lads rather than quarrel we'll stave a whole barrel
   So damn it more work for the coopers.
Come drink about plumpers, lads fill up your bumpers,
   And landlady bring us a twitcher;
But hearkee__ no roguing,--- you know Larry Grogan,
   Can find out the hole in a pitcher.

Come drink about Larry, let's laugh and be merry,
   This world is nothing but sorrow;
To day let us caper and sweal out life's taper,__
   It may be extinguish'd tomorrow.
Yet if death do approach us, he never dare broach us;
   The rascal had better be civil;
We'd call him a liar, put's dart in the fire,
   And shove his dry bones to the Devil.

Amongst other crochets we'll play up to Hatchet's,
   And drink a whole hogshead at Hammond's,
From there to Moll Wheelers we'll visit the females,
   And toss off a cog to Doll Cummins.
We'll touzle the tatters of each mother's daughter,-- 
   What says my young worthy sweet Larry?
Come lads never fear us, we'll rant it like heros,
   But mind we are never to marry.

Now faith Larry Grogan, with never a brogue on,
   I'll skip to thy music with pleasure;
So down with the glasses, and haul in our lasses;
   In dancing we'll stick to no measure.
Well broke Larry Grogan, 'tis time to be jogging,
   We reel with a motion so weary;
For piping and dancing for singing and prancing,
   Who e'er so a blade like young Larry.
* Pipe tune of which there are many versions, and now called "Langstern's pony". "Lastrum Pone" in the Neals' A Choice Collection of Country Dances, Dublin, c 1726; "Lestrum pone" in The Beggar's Wedding, 1729; It appears in several collection of country dances, including, "Lass Trumponey" in Walsh's Caledonian Country Dances, Book 1, c 1734, and is "Lastrumponey" in Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, and elsewhere later.

The tune "Larry Grogan" was printed in 1736 in the second book of J. Walsh's Caledonian Country Dances, and appeared about the same time on a single sheet song with music, (noted in 6/4 rather than 6/8 time) with the title "Larry Grogan, or the London Rakes delight." This song is an English bacchanalian, and Larry Grogan appears only in the title. The tune "Larry Grogan" was also printed in J. Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, Book 10, p. 12, c 1760.

Play: S1, LRYGRGN, from single sheet issue, below

[Following from single sheet song with music, the tune being "Larry Grogan." London, c 1730-40]

Larry Grogan, or the London Rakes Delight.

Come Boys let's be jolly and drown melancholy,
   We'll tope off a Hogshead of Sherry, of Sherry.
Let doating old Puritans dye in their folly,
   While we that are Rakes will be merry, be merry
Each Rake with his Miss shall tipple & frolic it.
   Peggy & Nanny & Nanny & Sarah, & Sarah,
& Harry & Ionny & Robin no politick Dicky 
   and Doll of the Dairy, the Dairy.


We'll Dance and sing and caper, rant, rattle, and Vapour,
   And revel like true Sons of Thunder, of Thunder,
Bauds, Pandors, and Bullies, Pimps, Whores & their Cullies,
   Amaz'd & afraid shall knock under Boys, under,
If they resist we'll beat them all back again,
   no Man our frolick shall hinder, shall hinder,
We'll Booze & we'll drink, & when in a merry Vein,
   Turn the House out the window, the window.

When Drunk with good Sherry Champain of Canary,
   We always are frisky & Jolly, & Jolly,
Each Lass of the Town that is free brisk and airy,
   Young Cicely Bersheba and Polly, & Polly,
Shall fly to our Arms with am'rous embraces,
   And meet a return from each Gallant, each Gallant,
While Liquor inspires us we mind no disgraces,
   But boldly make use of our Tallent, our Tallent.

Our Bottles, Religion, our Lasses, a Region
   Of bliss there our Joys we do Center, do Center,
While Bachus inspires us & Venus she fires us,
   We Value not Hymens Indenture, Indenture,
Those that do marry do often miscarry,
   Venus you know Cuckold'd Vulcan, old Vulcan,
His Horns oft did hinder the sight of his rival,
   While Mars in a corner lay sculking, lay sculking.
  
Some Women are fickle & lov & to be tickl'd,
   By those that to them should be Strangers, be Strangers,
The Rakes life is best tho' with Pox he is Pickl'd, 
   He need not to fear other dangers, Sir, dangers,
For what will come after we have no cause to fret,
   Think not at all of to morrow, to morrow,
A whole pound of grief will ne'er pay an Ounce of Debt,
   Hang care and cast away Sorrow, Boys, Sorrow.
Go to Index

[Black Joke and imitations]

The Original black Joke, sent from Dublin.

No mortal sure can blame ye man,
Who prompted by Nature will act as he can
     With a black joke, & belly so white:
For he ye Platonist must gain say,
that will not Human Nature obey,
     in working a joke, as will lather like soap, 
     & the hair of her joke, will draw more than a rope,
     with a black joke, & belly so white.

The first that came in was an English boy,
& then he began for to play & toy,
     With her black & c.
He was well vers'd in Venus's School,
Went on like a Lyon came off like a fool,
     From her coal black & c

Then Shonup a Morgan from Holly-head
Was stark staring mad to go to bed,
     To her black & c
His cruper her saddle did not fit,
So out of door she did him hit;
     With her Coal black & c.

Then hastily came in a Hilland man,
His chanter & pipe both in his hand,
     To her black & c
But his main spring it was not strong
For he could only flash in the pan
     Of her Coal black & c

A Frenchman oh yh wth ruffles & wig
With her he began for to dance a Jig
     With her black & c
& wn he felt wt was under her smock,
Begar said Mounsier 'tis a fine Merimot
With a Coal black & c.

A rich Dutch skipper from Amsterdam
He came wth his gilt ready in hand,
     To her black & c
He fancy'd himself very fit for ye game,
She sent him to Holland all in a flame,
     By her Coal black & c

The good Irish Man he cou'd not forbear
But yt he must have a very good share,
     Of her black & c
Madam said he for money I have none.
But I'll play a tune on ye jiging bone
     Of your Coal black & c

Then next came in a brave Granadeer,
& calls in for plenty of Ale & beer,
     For her black & c
The cuning sly Jade show'd him a trick
& sent him away wth fire in his stick
     From her Coal black & c.

Traverse ye Globe & you'l find none,
Who is nott addicted & very much prone,
     To a black & c
The Prince, ye Priest, ye Peasant do love it,
& all degrees of Mankind do covet
     A Coal black & c

The rigid recluse wth his meager face,
From fasting & prayer wd quickly cease,
     For a black & c
Let ye Clergy Cant & say wt they will
They stop ye mouth & tickle the Gill
     Of a Coal black & c

The Bishop in his Pontifical Gown,
Wou'd tumble another Susanna down,
     For her black & c
The Lawyer his Clients cause wd quit
To dip his pen in ye bottomless Pit
     Of a Coal black & c
Text and tune here are from a single sheet song with music, c 1730, here from a copy in the Folger Shakespeare Library. Another copy is reproduced in reduced facsimile in 'Music in Colonial Massachusetts', I, Fig 18, 1980. As shown below, the estimated date of c 1720 for the latter copy is too early. The last copy that I know of is at Glasgow University Library. 'Joke' is also later given as 'Joak' and 'Jock.' This is quite possibly the earliest Irish popular song to be printed with it own tune, but tune "Captain "Mckean" is earlier and from MS copy of c 1745, song is quite as bawdy. The first verse and last three of our song here appear without music in The London Miscellany, 1730, as "A New Song, to the tune of Black-Joak the words by the R---d Mr. S---th, Chaplain to a Man-of War." The fact this this collection announced itself to be scarce pieces and the word "Original" in our song title here implies that song was circulating about London inspiring imitations of both text and tune, before it was printed there. The earliest known datable copy of the tune is in Charles Coffey's ballad opera The Begger's Wedding, 4th ed., Act I, Air #10, 1729, where it is entitled "Coal Black Joak" and was followed by use in another ballad opera with the same tune title. Five others later, that also printed the music, call it simply "Black Joke," or "Black Joak". Our song here seems to have nearly established a new industry in London producing immitations of it.

About 1730 John Walsh published The Third Book of the most celebrated jiggs, ... etc, containing the tunes 'the Black Joak, the White Joak, the Brown, the Red and the Yellow Joaks.' [ABC's of all tunes in the book are at www.bath.ac.uk/~exxhf/walsh.abc] Coffey's song from The Begger's Wedding was also published in at least two different issues as a single sheet song with music entitled "The coal black Joke."

"White Joke" appeared in Robin Hood, Air #14, 1730, and both of these tunes appeared in Fielding's The Lottery, 1732. A song, 'The White Joak Sung by Mrs Roberts at the Theatre in Dury Lane The Words by Mr. Davis', commencing "Gay Myra toast of all the town" was published in at least two single sheet editions. Song, "The White Joak" commencing "Thrice happy Lizzy, blooming maid" appeared without music in The Vocal Miscellany, 'Volume the Second and Last', p. 1, 1734. "The City Lass and the Country Lass" to the tune of "White Joak" appears in Vol. 5 of Walsh's The British Musical Miscallany,n.d. [1736] Margaret Crum's First Line Index of English Poetry..Bodleian, item W746a, notes "A New Song to the tune of Coal black Joke", commencing "What though my love has got no pelf".

James Oswald in The Caledonian Pocket Companion, Book 7, pp. 18-19, c 1756, included a "Burlesque on Black Joak." He turned "Black Joke" into a Scots tune about a year later by scoring it in 3/4 time and titling it "Black Jock" in A Collection of Scots Tunes. The tune continued to be published occasionally in dance music collections throughout the 18th century, and was well known even in America.

The Black Jack

(from NLS MS 6299, c 1745. Variant of "The Coal Black Joke". See poor catch-penny single sheet version of the latter at the end of this section.)
There was a lady came out of France                 
all for to learn an english Dance
with her coal black jack that will lather [like soap
and the hair of her Jig will draw more than a rop[e
  with a black Joak, and belly so white

We girls of the Town are Ladies of pleasure         
We go to the Tavern and stitch at our leisure
   with her coal &c

Whe have such ways to draw men in                   
We'd rather stitch then learn to spin
   with our--- &c

In comes prime phillis then in a great h[--]  
and swears l--m her soul she'll stitch without m[en
  with our --- &c

She followed me from lane to lane           
picking my pockets quite so clean
  with her &c

Of all the Collours that are in the Town       
a red, a flaveen, a Grey or a brown
 with her---&c

Remember you Gallants, that follow the gam[e 
french Ladies first gave you sauce for the same
With] a coal black &c

It] is our Delight for to pick up a spark    
To] walk with at night in the Garden or park
Wit]h a Coal black &c

You] sparks of saint James's and likeways pall mall 
I'd] have you take care of this frenchify'd Girl
W]ith a Coal black Jack &c

The cole Black Jack

From NLS MS 6299, c 1745

A] Lady of pleasure that came from France
She] it was that learned me a dance
W]ith her pretty black hair and her hands so white

I] hurried me from lane to lane
untill she picked my pockets clean
W]ith her &c

My] watch my sword my rineys[?] likewise
the whore she seized on the golden prize
with her &c   

She] striped me naked and got me to bed
A]nd laid me close by a whore that was dead
with her &c

--] in the morning when I did rise
I then began for to rub my eyes
with her &c

When I thought to embrace my paramo[ur]
I found nothing there but fullsome ded [whore]
with her &c

I wish that I had been grut in the street [--
for the comical whore gave me the pox
wither her &c

Stark naked thro' the streets I did run
You would laugh for to see how I riggl[led along
with her &c
[A second part follows that above]

The whore's Answer to the Rakes

You Rakes and Bullies and comical fops
you say that we sent you away with the [pox
  with our &C

But pox on you for comical fools
we scorn to meddle with such dirty Poo[r tools
  with our &c

Its very weel known we are pritty Girl[s
and that we are company for Lords and E[arls  
  with our &C

And when into Essex street we come
the rakes and bullies the[y] turn up one bu[m
  with our &C

And when we come to temple bar
Then we pick up a Jolly tar
  with our &C

An]d when we come to featherbed lane
O]ur lovers will kindly us entertain
  with our &c.   Finis
[New addition, Mar. 1, 1999, but it has now become obvious that this is a cheap and incomplete version made to be palmed off as the original. It appears to lack 2 long verses.]

The Coal black Joke.
[single sheet song with music that is "Black Joke"]

There was a lady came from France
to learn an English country Dance,
wth her black Joke & Belly so white:
She follow'd me from Lane to Lane
& picked my Pockets quite & clean,
she follow'd me from Lane to Lane,
wt her coal black Joke, yt will lather like Soap,
& ye hairs of her head will draw more yn a Rope,
black Joke & Belly so white

The Girls of the Town are such Ladies of Pleasure,
They go to the Tavern & stitch at their leisure
    with their Black Joke & Bellies so white:
Their Cullies they call 'em my dear & my honey
They let down their Britches & lug out their money,
    They let &c
    For their coal black Jokes &c.

They ramble ye Town to pick up a Spark,
& go to ye Tavern, ye Play-house, or Park,
    With their black Jokes & Bellies so white:
They have such a Way to draw Man in,
They rather chuse to stitch than to Spin,
With their coal black Jokes &c.

Remember yu Sparks yt follow ye Game
ye French Ladies first gave yu Sauce for ye same,
    With their &c.
ye Girls of our Nation who draw yu in,
Will handsomely pepper yu off to ye Skin,
They'll handsomely &c.
With their coal black Jokes &c.
[End of this incomplete version.]

Bodleian Library MS Mus. Sch. G 636 contains a song with music "The Black Joak," commencing "No sooner comes [up] a country clown." Not seen there, but headed 'To the Tune of Black Joke' is a copy in The Merry Companion or, Universal Songster, 4th ed., 1750. A song of two verses where a prodigal spends all his money, turns to crime, and is then hung. Another bawdy song entitled "Black Joke" is a traditional one collected 1826-8, given in Emily Lyle's 'Andrew Crawfurd's Collection of Ballads and Songs, I, #69, 1975. There is also to the tune a song on "The Rebels" (Americans) whose reference I've misplaced.

Play: S1, BLCKJKE, from single sheet issue

Go to Index

[A series of related songs: Boys of Kilkenny, Shrowsbury for me, Pleasures of Sunderland, Bonny Paisley, On yonder high mountain. Note on Streams of Lovely Nancy versions.]

The Boys of Kilkenny

A Favorite Irish song Inscribed to Col.l Doyle By M.r Kelly MK

Oh the Boys of Kilkenny are brave roaring blades
And if ever they Meet with the nice little maids
They'll kiss them & coax them & spend their money free
And of all Towns in Ireland Kil-kenny for me
And of all Towns in Ireland Kilkenny for me.
Fal de ral de ral de ral de ral lal ra la la lo.
  
In the Town of Kilkenny there runs a clear stream,
In the Town of Kilkenny there lives a pretty Dame,
Her lips are lke roses,  and her mouth much the same,
Like a dish of fresh strawberries smother'd in cream.
  Fal de ral, &c.

Her Eyes are as black as Kilkennys large coal,
Which thro' my poor bosom have burnt a big hole;
Her mind like its river is mild clear and pure,
But her heart is more hard nor its marble I'm sure.
  Fal de ral, &c.

Kilkenny's a pretty Town and shines where it stands,
And the more I think on it, the more my heart warms;
For, if I was in Kilkenny I'd think myself at home,
For its there I'd get sweethearts, but here I get none.
  Fal de ral, &c.
London Printed for M.r Kelly at his Opera Salon 9 Pall Mall.

My London map of 1731 shows 6 bldgs on Pall Mall St. (between Haymarket and St. James St., and opposite a park) but doesn't identify them or give numbers for them (and the map may have been incorrect by the early 19th century. Song and tune here are from a single sheet copy which is believed to be the original publication of this song. If that is true then it must have been based on one of the songs below. Michael Kelly's music shop where it was printed, was in business from 1802 (or 1801) to 1811. The tune here is a variant of that later called by Thomas Moore, "The Old Head of Dennis."

Play: S1, BYSKLKN, from single sheet

Shrowsbury for me:

        Being
A Song in praise of that Famous Town,
Which hath throughout all England gain'd renown,
In Praise thereof, let every one agree,
And say with one accord, Shrowsbury for me.
To a delightful New Tune: or, Shrowsbury for me.

Come listen you Gallants
   of Shrowsbury fair Town,
For that is the place,
   that hath gained renown:
So set forth its praises,
   we all will agree:
Then every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

The merry Town of Shrowsbuy,
   God bless it still,
For it stands most gallantly
   upon a high hill:
It standeth most bravely,
   for all men to see,
Then every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

There's six Parish Churches
   all in that fair Town
And six gallant Ministers,
   in their black Gowns:
There's twice a week Market,
   for all men to see,
And every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

The second part, to the same tune.

O the brave bells of Shrowsbury,
   merrily doth ring,
And the gallant young-men & Maid[s],
   sweetly they sing:
There runs a fair River,
   for all men to see
And every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

O the Pinnacle of Shrowsbury,
   shews it self still,
For it's mounted gallantly
   on a high hill:
It standeth most bravely
   in view for to see,
Then every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

The Trades-men of Shrowsbury
   drive a fine Trade,
Their wives go most gallant,
   and bravely aray'd,
And like loving couples
   they always agree,
Then every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

The Sea-men went to Maid-stone,
   the Jayl for to see,
And from thence to London,
   that noble City:
Then home they returned,
   by one, two, and three,
And every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

The young-men of Shrowsbury,
   are jovial Blades,
When they are in company,
   with pretty Maids,
They court them compleatly,
   with complements free,
Then every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

There's fishing and fowling
   at Shrowsbury Town,
There's shooting and bowling,
   both up hill and down:
With brave recreations
   for every degree
Then every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

There is no man in Shrowsbury
   needs for to want,
for all things are plenty,
   and nothing is scant:
What e're you can wish for,
   for all men is free,
Then every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

The who would not gladly,
   live in this brave Town
Which flourishes gallantly,
   with high renown:
The like of it is not
   in England to see,
Then every man to his mind,
   Shrowsbury for me.

Then brave Lads of Shrowsbury,
   let us be merry,
Carrouse it most freely,
   in white-wine and Sherry:
Cast up your Caps bravely,
   for all men to see,
And still cry with one accord,
   Shrowsbury for me.

[Here from an issue published by Wright, Clarke, Thackeray, and Passenger. Copies printed by Richard Burton are in the Douce, Rawlinson, and Wood collections. Burton transfered his ownership rights to Coles, Vere, and Gilbertson on July 26, 1658.]

[Next, from The Bishopric Garland, Or, Durham Minstrel, Stockton, 1792, via Ritson's Northern Garlands:]

The Pleasures of Sunderland.

In the fine town of Sunderland, which stands on a hill,
   Which stands on a hill most noble to see,
There's fishing and fowling all in the same town,
   Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.

There's dancing and singing also in the same town,
   And many hot scolds there are in the week;
'Tis pleasant indeed the market to see,
   And the young maids that are mild and meek.

The damsels of Sunderland would, if they could,
   To welcome brave sailors, when they come from sea,
Build a fine tower of silver and gold;
   Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.

The young men of Sunderland are pretty blades,
   And when they come in with these handsome maids,
They kiss and embrace, and compliment free;
   Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.

In silver-street there lives one Isabel Rod
   She steeps the best ale the town can afford
For gentlemen to drink till they cannot see
   Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.

Sunderland's a fine place, it shines where it stands,
   And the more I look on it the more my heart warms;
And if I was there I would make myself free:
   Every man to his mind, but Sunderland for me.

[Wm. Logan in A Pedlar's Pack, p. 405, 1869, gave "Bonny Paisley" from a chapbook dated 1795 as follows:]

Bonny Paisley.


Over hills and high mountains,
  I have oftentimes been,
Through hedges and broad ditches
  I wandered alone.
There is nothing that doth grieve me,
  Or troubles my mind,
As the leaving of my sweetheart
  In Paisley behind.

O Paisley is a fine town,
  It shines where it stands;
The more I think on it,
  The more my heart warms,
For if I were in Paisley,
  I would think myself at home,
For there I have a sweetheart,
  But here I have none.

O the weavers in bonny Paisley,
  They are clever young blades,
When they do go a-courting
  Of pretty young maids;
They will kiss them and clap them,
  And spend their money free;
Of all the towns in Scotland,
  O Paisley is for me.

O the lasses in bonny Paisley,
  They are pretty young maids,
For they love the jolly weavers,
  And despise all other trades.
And if any other tradesman
  Should cast a loving eye,
To the arms of a jolly weaver
  She will suddenly fly.

For it is up into the Hoxiehead
  I will build my love a bower,
Where neither Duke nor Lord
  Shall over her have power.
But if anybody ask you,
  "My dear what is your name?"
Tell them that I'm your jolly weaver,
  And your my dearest swain.
"Bonny Udny" is in Gavin Greig's Folk-Song of the North East, Article 32, and Greig recognized the similarity of it to other songs, including most of ours here. [See additional versions in The Greig-Duncan Folk Song Collection, VI, #1089, ]. As Greig notes this song seems related also to one in English County Songs, "Bristol City", where the last verse commences "I'll build my love a castle on yonder high ground." The following is intended to draw some references together for those who might wish to pursue a study of this latter song, and hopefully be able to add something that will tie together some vague relationships and history. There is a extensive note on this latter song and its variants by Anne. G. Gilchrist in JFSS, 17, p. 312, 1913, where the copy printed is "Come all you little streamers." [Another version is called "The Streams of Lovely Nancy", in JFSS, of which there are several broadside texts on the Bodley Ballads website. This in Harding B 28(29) dating from 1820-24.] Another American version is "Green Mountain" in 'Folk Songs out of Wisconsin', p. 120, 1977. Thanks to John Moulden for pointing out an Irish version I had overlooked, "The Strands of Magilligan" in Huntington and Herrmann's 'Sam Henry's Songs of the People', p. 259, 1990, also Hugh Shields' 'Shamrock, Rose and Thistle'.

One of the best and earliest copies of "Come all you little streamers" is actually an untitled American one in An Astronomer's Wife, 1908, with its tune, p. 18. This text seems to date from the 1840's, being one of Angelina Hall's father's songs. G. L. Kittridge reprinted this text and tune in Journal of American Folklore, 1917. Except for the order of verses "Faithful Emma" in Broadwood and Fuller Maitland's English County Songs, 1893 is practicaally the same. Surprisingly there's no Emma in the song, but an unfaithful Mary.


On yonder high mountain there the castle doth stand,
All decked in green ivy from the top to the strand;
Fine arches fine porches, and the limestone so white-
'Tis a guide for the sailor in the dark stormy night.

'Tis a landscape of pleasure, 'tis a garden of green,
And the fairest of flowers that ever was seen.
For hunting, for fishing, and for fowling also-
The fairest of flowers on this mountain doth grow.

At the foot of this mountain there the ocean doth flow,
And ships from the East Indies to the westward do go,
With the red flags aflying and the beating of drums-
Sweet instruments of music and the firing of guns.

Had Polly proved loyal I'd have made her my bride,
But her mind being inconstant it ran like the tide;
The king can but love her, and I do the same-
I'll crown her my jewel and be her true swain.
I have not been able to make any certain connection of these songs with the tune "On yonder high mountain" in The Cobbler's Opera, 1728, Momus turned Fabulist, 1729, and Sylvia,1731, and no verses are known for this tune. C. M. Simpson in The British Broadside Ballad and Its Music, notes in two places that the ballad opera tune is quite similar to "Love will find out the way." This ballad opera tune is quite similar to that of our last song above. Could our song here be descended from a lost original? See also "The Highlander's farewell to bonny port more" for some more related verses. [For more texts see Steve Roud's folksong index, Roud #688, #5638, #3450, #1451.]

Play: S1, YNDRMTN1, On yonder high mountain, Astronomer's Wife
S1, YNDRMTN2, " , Silvia, 1731

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Captain Mckean

[Captain Mckean/ Magan/ Mc Can, etc. Here from NLS MS 6299]

Bon]ny maidens all both great and small
Come listen a while to my ditty, my ditty
I']ll sing you [a] song and before it belong
I'm sure you will say it is pretty is pretty
of Captain Mckean that jolly brave man
that lives in county of carry of carry
who carrys a p__k that's both long & thick
that makes all the lasses full merry, full merry

You maidens that [are] young be sure to come
and make your complaint to ye Captain ye [Captain]
and when you come there you need not to fear
that he will give you full slashes full slashes
Hurey[,] be not so coy when you meet a young b[oy
that's willing to spend all his money his [money
but smile in his face & pity his case
and surely he'll call you his honey his [honey

There's a lass in this town she wears a g[reen gown]
she lies on her back & she's sivle, she's [civil
he['s] worse then a clown that will not knel[l down]
and play up a tune to her fiddle her fiddle
No]t silver or gold nor jewels I'm told
will please this beautiful virgin, this virgin
untill that she feel both morning & eve [--?
a p--k in hand & it sloping it sloping

You Dublin Girls with ribbands & pear[ls]
ye'r decked like ladys of honour of honour
bell Briget & Nell & fair Isabel
and then like ways misconour muiscon [ Miss Connor?
F]air Nell she is kind will tell you her minde
and call you aside with a whisper a whisper
if your p--k it be strong no matter how long
you may play up a tune to her sister her sister

There's never a lass betwixt cork and Belfast
but will drink with the man that she'll fancy she'll fancy
she'll sit at the table & drink while she able
and toss up a bumper of brandy of Brandy
Then without delay the reconing she'll pay
and pull out a hand full of money of money
a guinnea in hand she'll give to that man
who freely will tickle her Cony her cony

In] the dead of the night his pleasure upright
she'll fill him a glass of Canary Canary
to cheerish his heart for she'll never part
untill that she find him grow weery grow weery
Up]on her dear breast he may take his rest
and sleep in her arms some hours some hours
A]fter pasing delight they shall both take their play [rhyme lost
And] sport in the shades of green bowers green bowers

Captain Mckean is a Jolly brave man
and into the battle will venture will venture
so boldly appears with a heart void of fea[rs]
and swears that a fort he will enter will enter
He's hardy & bold will not be Contrould
untill that he fires a volly a volly
at the port hole hes stand with his prick in hand
at the ballops all able to rallie to rallie

Altho' that porthole were as black as a cole
and its fringes all setteell[?] about it about it [settled?]
in the midst there's a hole most neatly Comp[ressed
which few men can do well without it without it
Now dear loving friends to make you an end
that man is much worse than a sinner a sinner
that would deny but freely comply
to riffle the Charms within it within it ['within her' ?

The tune for the song here may be found in Nicholas Carolan's edition of the Neals' Dublin work of c 1724, A Collection of the Most Celebrated Irish Tunes, #12. See his note to that and "Morgan Magan," #37, for possible attribution to O'Carolan. About two years later the Neals gave a dance version in A Choice Collection of Country Dances (edited by Rich Jackson and George Fogg, Country Dance Soc., Cambridge, Mass, 1990). Here is given a vocal score, from Charles Coffey's ballad opera, The Beggar's Wedding, Act II, Air #1, 1729. Coffey also gave the tune in The Merry Cobler, 1735. The tune is credited to O'Carolan in the recent The Complete Works of O'Carolan, 2nd. ed., Cork, 1989, but no evidence for the attribution is cited.

George Colman wrote a new song for the tune which may be found without the tune in Davenport's Beauties of Song for 1803, commencing "The face of brave Captain Megan, was broad as a big frying pan." With the tune it may be found later in Crosby's Irish Musical Repository, p. 162, 1808, and the tune without a song in Moore/ Stevenson's A Selection of Irish Melodies, issue #3 (1810).

The song here is from a Scots manuscript collection of songs compiled c 1735-50, and although mostly Scots songs, the bawdiest are English and Irish. Narrow margins for binding have obscured beginning of lines on recto of leaves, and ends on verso, and my guesses at original are separated by brackets, [ or ], from the MS text. The repeats at the ends of even numbered lines are the same as in most early songs to "Larry Grogan".

Play: S1, CAPTMGN, from Beggar's Wedding, 1729.

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Drumion Dubh: Or, The Irishman's Lamentation for the Loss of his Black Cow.

Oh! there was a poor man,
  And he had but one cow
And how he had lost her
  He couldn't tell how,
But so white was her face
  And so sleek was her tail,
That I thought my poor Drumion Dubh
  Never would fail.
   Agus oro Drumion Dubh
     Oro ah!
   Oro Drumion Dubh
     Mhiel agrah!
  Agus oro Drumion Dubh
     O, ochone!
  Drumion Dubh dheelis
  Go dea tu slan.

Returning from mass                  
  On a morning in May,                 
I met my poor Drumion dubh,          
  Drowning by the way
I roared and I bawled,               
  And my neighbours did call,       
To save my poor Drumion Dubh,       
  She being my all.          
     Agus oro, &c.                      

Ah, neighbours, was this not
  A sorrowful day?
When I gazed on the water;
  [Where] my Drumion Dubh lay?       
With a drone and a drizzen,
  She bid me adieu,
And the answer I made, was 
  A loud phillilu.
    Agus oro, &c.

Poor Drumion Dubh sunk,
  And I saw her more
Till I came to an island
  Was close by the shore;
And down on that island
  I saw her again,
Like a bunch of ripe blackberries
  Rolled in the rain.
    Agus oro, &c.

Arrah, plague on you Drumion Dubh,   
  What made you die?
Or why did you leave me?
  For what and for why?  
I would rather lose Padeen
  Ma mhogiel beg ban
Than part with you Drumion Dubh,  
  Now that you're gone.
    Agus oro, &c.

When Drumion dubh lived,
  And before she was dead,
She gave me fresh butter
  To [eat] to my bread;
And likewise new milk,
  That I soaked in my scon,
But now its black water,
  Since Drumion Dubh's gone!
     Agus oro, &c.
[Text from The Irish Minstrel, c 1828]

Drimin Dhu

'Tis a sorrowful ditty I'm going to sing now,
It's of a poor man and he had but one Cow,
And often drove her to the field to be fed,
But oh! and alas! my poor Drimin dhu's dead!
     Agus oh! Ro Drimin dhu, O Ro Ah! 
     O Ro Drimin dhu muiel agragh 
     O Ro Drimin dhu Oh! O hone!
     Drimin dhu dheelis Go dea tu slaun.

Last Sunday morning just coming from mass,
I milked my Drimin dhu out on the grass,
So white was her face and so sleek was her tail,
I thought that my Drimin dhu never would fail.
     Agus oro Drimin dhu &c.

Last friday morning, ochone! and alas!
I saw my poor Drimin dhu stretch'd on the grass,
I called to my Sheelah to view my sad case,
And the soft tear of pity trickled down her poor face.
     Agus oro Drimin dhu &c.

Arrah speak to me Drimin dhu, What made you to die,
Och! what made you leave me, for what and for why,
I'd rather lose Padeen, my mhogiel beg ban,
Than part with you Drimin dhu Ochone! Ochone!
     Agus oro Drimin dhu &c.
The first text, slightly corrected, is from The Universal Songster, III, p. 45, London: Jones and Co., 1828. No music was given, nor was a tune indicated. This is the earliest complete copy of the song I have found. There are several incomplete versions of the song from tradition, all, that I know of, to tunes different from the original one. A slightly modified text, the second above, from Ref. D below, was given about the same time, with music. The earliest, 1805? is that in reference H below.

Play: S1, DRUMDB1, Drimen Duff from Thumoth, c 1744. Source A below.
S1, DRUMDB2, Drimen Duff Oswald's CPC

Many accounts and comments on this song and tune are badly flawed by confusion with other songs or tunes of the same or similar title. I will note these at the end, and until that point all comments and references here are to slight tune and textual variants of a single tune and its song.

"Oroo Dremendoo" is the tune direction of a song in an Irish ballad opera of 1748 by Henry Brooke. The ballad opera was immediately closed by authorities, but the songs in it were published in Songs in Jack the Gyant Queller, Dublin, 1749. In the song there, it is Jackie that is lost rather than "Druimion Dubh" and Brooke seems to have imitated lines in "Druimion Dubh," given here. The last line of the 4th verse is "But where is my Jackie, now tell me - O where" and the 5th and last verse concludes, "For while lilly lilly loo- my Jackie is gone." Unfortunately this is the only evidence for the existance of the song in the present form from the 18th century. Robert Owenson [originally named Mac Eoghain] is known to have sung "Dhrimminduh" in a Dublin concert in 1778, but no copy of the text or music survives, however, see reference to an early version given by his daughter at ref. H below. Breandan Breathnach, in an article 'The Pipers of Kerry,' Eigse Cheol Tire [Irish Folk Music Studies], IV, p. 5, 1985, quotes from T. Crofton Croker's Legends of the Lakes, I, p. 26, 1829, (Croker's Legends are said elsewhere to be based on another person's manuscripts, unfortunately I failed to copy down the reference for this statement) an account of the renown Kerry piper James Gandsey, in 1815, as follows:

"He sang to a most plaintive melody, the poor man's lamentation for the loss of his cow:

     Oh! there was a poor man,
     and he had but one cow,
     and what way he lost her,
     He could not tell how. 
     Sleek and black was her coat
     from the head to the tail,
     and copious and pure
     flow'd the milk in the pail.
     Agus oro drimen dubh
     oro bo!   
    .... and so on."
It is obvious that Breathnach did not recognize the song and thought little of it. Breathnach's comment was: Croker's versification runs too close to 'There was an old woman who lived in a shoe' to excite in the reader much sympathy for the old man on the loss of his cow.

There will probably never be any direct proof that the song here inspired the English broadside ballad, "Colly my Cow," which is in somewhat different meter than "Drumion Dubh." (Roxburghe Ballads, III, 600, Euing Collection, #31, 32) "Colly" has some lines very similar to those in "Druimion Dubh," and is also a lament for a dead cow, and the woodcut of the black cow with white spots on the back fits "Drumin Dubh Dilis: The Dear Black White-Backed Cow," to a tee. It was issued by a number of different printers from about 1680. It was certainly inspired by a Gaelic song or it wouldn't have a pseudo-Gaelic chorus. The chorus was eliminated in a shortened version of about the middle of the 18th century sung at Marylebone Gardens, and it is not found in a traditional version given by the Rev. Baring-Gould in Songs of the West, p. 212, 1905. Francis O'Neill, The Music of Ireland, "The Dear Black Cow," #130, unaccountably gives "Colly my Cow" as an alternate title for our tune here.

The tune given here is from E, below, where verses almost identical to our first text above are set to it. Tune copies, mostly somewhat variant, are as follows:

A. "Drimen Duff." Twelve Scotch and Twelve Irish Airs. by Burke Thumoth. London: J. Simpson, London. n.d. [1743-45] Given as an Irish Air, p. 38.

B. "Drimen Duff." The Caledonian Pocket Companion, by James Oswald. Book 8, p. 12. n.d. [c 1756]. This slight variant was reprinted several times: With tune slightly altered, e.g., Scots Musical Museum, #303, where it is used as a setting for "Hughie Graham," Child, #191; Repeated in R. A. Smith's The Scottish Minstrel; Arranged by J. T. Surenne, it was used in G. F. Graham's Songs of Scotland, II p. 44, 1848, as a setting for a song by Robert Burns, "The gloomy night is gath'ring fast." Bertrand Bronson, The Traditional Tunes of the Child Ballads, III, p. 179, 1966, reprinted the text and tune from SMM, and noted a connection of the tune with "Lumps of Pudding."

C. "Drimindoo." A New Selection of the most Admired Original Irish Airs. Dublin: Hime. n.d. p. 4. [c 1800] All but identical to A above. Having the same theme code is one I have not seen, "Drimindoo" in volume VI, p. 37, of Aird's Airs, c 1803.

D. "Drimin dhu". R. A. Smith, The Irish Minstrel, p. 100-01. 2nd. ed. Edinburgh: Robert Purdie, n.d. [1828?]. Text given above. [Neither text nor tune are in the supposedly suppressed original edition of 1825 in the Library of Congress.]

E. "Drimindub-Deelish." Folio sheet music with song. Words by T. L. Arranged by C. McDonnell. Baltimore: John Cole. n.d. (c 1830-40). [I can find no Scots or Irish poet or songwriter with these initials except for Thomas Lyle, who did not give it in his book of songs in 1828, nor is he credited with it in Smith's <>, 2nd edit., where several songs credited to him do appear.]

F. "Dear Black Cow." The Ancient Music of Ireland. by Edward Bunting. Dublin: Hodges and Smith. Music page 32, 1840. Bunting gives a variant chorus with the music, and below it gives what he claims is a translation from the Gaelic, with English title "The Poor Irishman's Lamentation for the Loss of His Cow." No such Gaelic original has been found, and it appears his text is a version of "Drumion Donn Delish," rather than "Druimion Dubh Delish," but with his chorus from the latter.

G. "Drimin Dhu" (Old Irish Air) [Copyright, with new verses about a cow also named Drimin dubh, 1912]. Chicago: Gamble Hinged Music Co.

H. "Drimendoo" 'A much admir'd ancient Irish air. To which are adapted some verses written by Miss [Sidney] Owenson' [later Lady Morgan] (these commence, "Oh farewell dear Erin'). There are also three rather poor verses given. This is now on the internet as Box 30, Item 10 at levysheetmusic.jse.jhu.edu. [This was probably taken from her Twelve Original Hiberian Melodies, 1805, (which I have been unable to locate), but perhaps more than her "Kate Kearney" were published as sheet music songs by Michael Kelly at his music shop in London, c 1802-11. Other tunes for the song.

P. W. Joyce, Old Irish Folk Music and Songs, p. 103, #210, 1909, tune, "Drimin Dhu Dheelis," with chorus only of the song given here. This is a different tune, but similar. Joyce also gives, p. 250, # 445, another tune in 3/4 time, "Drumin Dubh Dilis: The Dear Black White-Backed Cow."

For a few of the references to the song and/or the tune after 1800, cited above, I am indebted to notes by Rae Corson in a folder in The Archive of Folk Culture at the Library of Congress, although this list also contains much unrelated to "Druimion Donn Delis," and even a late 19th century song about an unrelated Irish cow.

Unrelated Gaelic Cows [bo] (and also unrelated to Caleendhas Crootheenamoe = Pretty girl milking the cow).
Druimionn Donn Deelis: The Dear Brown Cow. There is an old Irish allegorical song "Druimionn Dhown" [Brown-backed Cow] in which "Druimionn Down (Donn)" like "Granuaile' (Gr inne O'M ille = Grace O'Malley), is Mother Ireland herself. The song as well as the air are given in the first two references below.
"The faithful Druimionn Donn.", G. Petrie. The Ancient Music of Ireland, I p. 115, 1855. With Gaelic and translated verses. Petrie incorrectly gives "Druiminn dubh deelish" as an alternative title.
"Drimin Dhown." Donal O'Sullivan. Songs of the Irish, p. 143, 1960. With Gaelic and metrically translated verses, and literal translation.
"Drium-fion donn dileas." Francis O'Neill's Music of Ireland, Chicago, 1903, #605, #606. Settings closely related to the two above. "Druimfhionn Donn Dilis," The Roche Collection of Traditional Irish Music, III, p. 21, [1927], reprint, 1982. Tune only.

Other, but different tunes:
"Drimin Donn Dilis." P. W. Joyce, Old Irish Folk Music and Songs, 1909, p. 169-70, #370, tune only, but with reference to another version of the tune that he had given previously with the verses. This is the tune used by Georges-Dennis Zimmerman, Irish Political Ballads and Rebel Songs, 1760-1900, for "The Barrymore Tithe Victory."
Young Brown Cow: "Drimen Down Oge." [Young Brown Cow] [P.] O'Farrell's Pocket Companion for the Irish or Union Pipes. Vol. I, p. 127, c 1806. O'Neill changes the color in Music of Ireland, #220, where this tune appears as "The Young Black Cow."

"Driman Dubh" Scots Gaelic song and tune, apparently unrelated to Irish songs or tunes. Domenico Corri, A New and Complete Collection of the most favourite Scots Songs Including a few English and Irish, 2 books, Corri and Sutherland, Edinburgh, n.d. [1783]. The Scots Gaelic song there, entitled "Driman Dubh," is apparently only a chorus, given as follows:

    
   Ho ro'n driman dubh ho ro ei la,
   Ho ro'n driman dubh ho ro ei la,
   Ho ro'n driman dubh ho ro ei la,
   Andrimman dubh laothach's i roghe na spraidhe.
Same (Scots?) tune as that preceeding: Scots Musical Museum, #179, p. 187. Setting for Robert Burns' "Musing on the roaring ocean." Tune there from Patrick McDonald's A Collection of Highland Vocal Airs, #89, n.d. [1784], according to James Dick. Tune from latter reprinted by James Dick, The Songs of Robert Burns, 1903, p. 31, with notes on the tune at p. 362.

Drumion Dubh texts to other tunes:
Text without music, Gordon MSS, Vol. 5, p. 1035, Library of Congress Folklore Archive/ Helen Creighton, Maritime Folk Songs, 1961/ Helen Creighton and Calum MacLeod, Gaelic Songs in Nova Scotia, 1979/ Sing Out, 1, 9 (Summer, 1959) [Not in recent collected reprints from Sing Out]/ Leadbelly, Elektra EKL-301-2/ David Sear, Folkways FA 2428/ Library of Congress field recording, AFS 8038A. Recorded by Wayland Hand from Eamon O'Sullivan, Butte, Montana, 1945.

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The country-mans lamentation for the death of his cow.

          A Country Swain of little wit one day,
          Did kill his Cow because she went astray:
          Whats that to I or you, she was his own,
          But now the Ass for his Cow doth Moan:
          Most piteously methinks he cries in Vain,
          For now his Cow's from hunger free, and pain;
          What ails the fool to make so great a stir,
          She cannot come to him, he may to her.
To a pleasant Country Tune, called, Colly my Cow.

Little Tom Dogget, what dost thou mean,
To kill thy poor Colly, now she's so lean:
     Sing , Oh poor Colly, Colly my Cow;
     For Colly will give me now more milk now.
          Pruh high, pruh hoe, Pruh high, pruh hoe,
          Sing pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh,
          Tal dal daw.

I had better have kept her, till fatter she had been,
For now I confess she was a little too lean:
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c.

First in comes the Tanner, with his sword by his side;
          And he bids me five Shillings, for my Cows hide:
          Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c.

Then in comes the Tallow-chandler, whose brains were but shallow,
And he bids me two and Six-pence, for my Cows Tallow:
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, Colly my Cow,
     For Colly will give me no more milk now:
          Pruh high, pruh hoe, pruh high, pru hoe,
          Sing pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh,
               Tal dal daw.

Then in comes the Huntsman, so early in the morn,
He bids me a Penny, for my Cows horn:
     Sing, On poor Colly, Colly my Cow:
     For Colly will give me no more milk now:
          Pruh high, pruh hoe, pruh high, pruh hoe,
          Sing pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh,
               Tal dal daw.

Then in comes the Tripe woman, so fine and so neat,
She bid me three half-pence for my Cows feet:
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c.

Then in comes the Butcher, a nimble-tong'd youth:
Who said she was Carrion, but he spoke not the truth:
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c.

This Cow had a skin, as soft as the silk,
And three times a day, my Cow would give milk:
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c.

She every year, a fine Calf did me bring,
Which fetcht me a pound, for it came in the Spring:
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c.

But now I have kill'd her, I can't recall:
I will sell my poor Colly, Hide, Horns, and all:
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c.

The Butcher shall have her, though he gives but a pound:  
And he knows in his heart, that my Colly was sound:
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c.

And when he has bought her, let him sell all together,
The flesh for to eat, and the hide for Leather.
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c.

Some say i'm a Cuckold, but i'le swear I am none,
For how can it be, now my horns are gone.
     Sing, Oh poor Colly, &c 
                                     FINIS
Printed for J. Hose, over-a-gainst Staples-Inn in Holbourn. [c 1675]

Traditional text and tune in Baring-Gould's Songs of the West.

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The Girl I left behind me.

I'm lonesome since I cross'd the hills,
  And o'er the moor that's sedgy;
With heavy thoughts my mind is fill'd,
  Since I parted with my Naggy  [early pencilled correction
When e'er I return to view the place, [ gives 'Peggy']
  The tears doth fall and blind me,
When I think on the charming grace
  Of the girl I left behind me.

The hours I remember well,
  When next to see doth move me, ['see' can't be correct]
The burning flames my heart doth tell,
  Since first she own'd she lov'd me:
In search of some one fair and gay, [rhyme lost 
  Several doth remind me;
I know my darling loves me well,
  Tho' I left her behind me.

The beas shall lavish, mare no store  [bees, languish, bear ? 
  And the dove become a ranger;
The falling water cease to roar,
  Before I'll ever change her:
Each mortal promise faithful made, [rhyme lost
  By her whose tears doth blind me;
And bless the hours I pass away,
  With the girl I left behind me.

My mind her image still retains,
  Whether asleep or waking;
I hope to see my dear again,
  For her my heart is breaking:
But if e'er I chance to go that way,
  And that she has not resign'd me;
I'll reconcile my mind and stay,
  With the girl I left behind me.
Text from The Charms of Melody, n.d., Dublin, issue #72. The one hundred four page issues of this work came out approximately every 1.8 months, c 1795-1810. The text is from #72, being approximately of 1805-6, and this appears to be the oldest text yet found. However, in a songbook, The New Whim of the Night, or the Town and Country Songster for 1799, is a song "The Girls we love so dearly" 'Written by R. Rusted Tune - The Girl I left behind me.' Rusted's song commences "Come, messmates, fill the flowing can". This is the only reference to the song or tune in the 18th century that I've found. The first and third verses here are in Vance Randolph's Ozark Folksongs, III, 'C' text, p. 354, from a manuscript and without tune.

Wm. Chappell in Popular Music of the Olden Time had much to say about "The girl I left behind me" being connected with "Brighton Camp" and being an 18th century song, none of which has been subsequently verified, and if one studies Chappell carefully one sees he gives no solid information that would prove an 18th century date for text or tune. James J. Fuld, The Book of World Famous Music, tracked down the earliest known copy of the tune, that in Himes' Pocket Book for the German Flute, Dublin, n.d [c 1810], and notes the text "Blyth Camps, or the Girl I Left Behind Me" in Bell's Rhymes of the Northern Bards, 1812. Fuld points out that "Brighton Camp Quick March", 1792, is not the same tune.

The tune appears as "Brighton Camp or the Girl I Left Behind Me" in Riley's Flute Melodies, I, #349, New York, n.d. [1816], but much yet remains unexplained regarding the history of this song and tune, and its connection to "Brighton Camp".

Play: S1, GRLBHND, from Riley's Flute Melodies

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[Granuaile. (Gra/inne Mhael, Gra/innu Mhaol, Granny Wale, = Grace O'Malley)]

Commodore Gale

Tune - Granny wale. [Granuaile]

Come boys, and before the old vessel unmoors,
Let's toss off a can to the doxies on shore;
'Tis pity to let the good liquor grow stale,
We'll knock round The Wash then, says Commodore Gale.  
   So mix it, and stir it, says Commodore Gale;
   So mix it, and stir it, says Commodore Gale
  'Tis pity to let the good liquor grow stale,
  We'll knock round The Wash then, says Commodore Gale.  
   
Confusion to watching and trudging the deck,
We can but at worst, have a damnable check;
Sit still then, and let all the officers rail;
We'll ride out the breeze, says Commodore Gale.
   So drink and replentish, &c.

The liquor's not theirs, it is very well known,
We bought it, - and so - d--n, 'tis our own;
I'll bowze it about, till I spue like a whale;
Here's to peace, and their downfal, says Commodore Gale.
   Drink, and replentish, &c.

If they were ashore, and to tip me their jaw,
My truncheon could soon make them stand in more awe,
I'd thresh 'em as farmers, do corn with a flail,
Till they cried out peccavi*, O Commodore Gale.
   I'd thrash 'em and smack 'em, &c.

But thus while he swaggers, and blusters, and roars,
And brags of his bruising, and toasts all his wh--rs,
His noddle and stomach, begin both to fail,--
Here's go and turn in -- says old Commodore Gale.
   Let's knock off and sleep, &c.

Then he staggered to bed, and top heavy with bub,
He piss'd in his hammock instead of the tub;
Then dreamt he was swampt, in a boat under sail,
And bale her, hoa! bale her, cries Commodore Gale.
   Hoa! scoop her and bale her, &c.

Learn hence when you're drinking, ye bucks of the main,
To ne'er overballast your stomach or brain:
So with this good moral we'll stopper the tale,
And drink reformation to Commodore Gale.
   Sing drink remember, &c.

* peccavi, - Latin: I have sinned, or, confession of guilt.
The song "Commodore Gale," which obviously isn't Irish, is from a rare songbook without music, The Charms of Chearfulness, London, 1781. "Granuaile" is symbolic name for Ireland derived from the Gaelic spelling of the name of a female Irish pirate of the last half of the 16th century, Grace O'Malley. D. K. Wilgus in an article "The Aisling and the Cowboy", Western Folklore, 44, pp. 275-6 (1985) quotes a few other spellings of the title and gives a list of several "Granuaile" songs, but the tune given here seems to be the only one traceable to the 18th century.

"Grania Meuel" is cited as the tune for a two verse song in Songs in Jack the Gyant Queller, Dublin, 1749, from Henry Brooke's suppressed Irish ballad opera of 1748. The song there fits the tune given here. This is the earliest reference to the tune that I have found. The 1st verse goes:

Though Passions conttend, and Afflictions storm,
And shake ther frail state of our human Form;
If Virtue the Base of our Pile sustain,
Affliction shall rage, and assault in vain.

The tune "Granuaile" is given in a instrumental setting as "Granu Weal or Ma Ma Ma" in Edward Bunting's The Ancient Music of Ireland, p. 36, 1840. Bunting said, p. viii, that the tune was obtained from a piper named Macdonnell in 1797, and he thought, p. 93, that the tune was as old as Grace O'Malley herself. Bunting's setting, however, is unsatisfactory as source for a vocal score. The melody part of Bunting's tune was reprinted by Francis O'Neill in The Music of Ireland, #546. [O'Neill also gives a different tune "(Graine na Maille) Grace O'Malley," #485.] Fortunately there are better sources for the tune.

A singable set of the tune is "Granuwail" is in B. Cooke's Cooke's Selection of Twenty One Favourite Original Irish Airs, c 1795, copied in Hime's 'New Selection', c 1805. The tune is Dorian mode. Bunting's setting has a key signature of two flats (G minor), but he then puts a natural sign in front of all of the E's.

The second copy of the tune here is an instrumental version, not suitable for singing, but it seems to be the earliest copy of the tune.

Play: S1, GRNWALE1, from Cooke's Selection, c 1795.
GRNWALE2, from Henry Beck flute MS, 1786.

Another copy of our tune here is "Gr/inne Mhaol," reprinted from The Dublin Monthly Magazine, May, 1842, by Georges-Denis Zimmermann in Songs of Irish Rebellion , p. 183, 1967. The tune there is given as sixteen measures, but the last eight are simply a repeat of the first eight. This setting differs little from that published by Haverty. The earliest copy of the tune I've seen is in the Henry Beck Flute MS, 1786, in the Library of Congress, but given there as G major instead of G minor, and it is an intrumental version unsuitable for singing.

Granau Wale/Weal is (Mother) Ireland in a song which I think is probably American, although set in Dublin and London. "Old Granny Wales" there complains to several English statesmen about the hard times the English are giving to her sons in America. The song mentions events in America from the Boston tea party up to, but not including, the start of the Revolutionary War. The song was printed in the very rare The Green Mountain Songster of 1823, and I am deeply appreciative of a xerox copy from Margaret MacArthur. A later copy, with several corruptions, is printed from the Stevens-Douglas manuscript (c 1841-56) of western New York in A Pioneer Songster, (by Harold Thompson and Edith Cutting) p. 85, 1958. In the latter the song is entitled "Old Grannau Weal." Neither copy contains a tune direction, nor do any of the editors suggest one, but the song fits our tune here quite well. There is broadside ballad issue of the song in the Isaiah Thomas collection. I suspect the song was actually written in America by an Irish American: the writer does not seen to know the names of any real streets in Dublin or London, and even after the date of this song Irishmen were being executed for treason for less provocative acts against the English.

Old Granny Wales

As granny arose in the morning soon,
  She put on her petticoat, apron and gown;
I've very bad new last night came to me,
  They're wronging my children over the sea.

Then granny mounted her gelding in rage,
  And strait up to Dublin it was her first stage;
As she was a riding up through Dublin street,
  'Twas there my lord Conner she chanced to meet.

He said noble granny come tell me in haste,
  What is the best news you have from the west?
I've very bad news which makes me complain,
  They're wronging my children that's over the main.

That news is too true, my lord Connor he said,
  They'll bring us to slavery I am afraid,
There is my lord Granville and infamous Bute,
  They've brought on this tea act that's now in dispute.

The weather being wet and her sorrows increas'd,
  She strait up to London it was her next stage,
As she was a riding up through London street,
  'Twas there my lord Granville and Bute she did meet.

She said noble gentlemen tell me in fact,
  Are you the ring leaders of this here tea act?
To enslave my sons that's in a foreign land,
  You are the villains I do understand.

They say noble granny you're wrongly inform'd,
  To enslave America we never intend;
But this land is our king's we do solemnly say,
  And we will make laws for your sons to obey.

It's a lie! it's a lie! said old granny in haste,
  For it's very well known from the east to the west,
They ventur'd their lives all over the flood,
  And they purchas'd that land with the price of their blood.

They say noble granny don't make such a vent,
We'll tame your sons courage, we'll make them repent,
Our great ships of war and our men in the fie[l]d,
They'll tame tame your sons courage & make them to yield.

You ne'er need to think for to frighten my sons;
At Lexington battle they made your men run, [Apr. 19, 1775
They're men of experience in every degree,
And they'll turn your great ships with their helms alee.

I've thousands of sons that's American born,
To yield to your slavery they highly it scorn,
They're men of experience in every respect,
And they scorn to be held down now by your tea act.

Now says noble granny I'll take leave to tell,
The battle we fought on yon Bunker's hill, [June 17, 1775
Where nine hundred Britons lay dead on he ground,
And five hundred more since have died of their wounds.

They say noble granny don't boast of your sons,
Although it was bloody the battle we won;
And then you had Waren, but now he is dead,
And you have no Warren your armies to head.

I well know says granny our Warren is dead, [at Bunker hill battle
But we have a Washington our armies to head;
He'll handle your troops as polite as you please,
And pay them trouble for crossing the seas.

We allow noble granny your sons they are brave,
But now do you think of the armies we have,
We'll send over Cornwallis, our Bixly and Graves,
And your sons shall submit or we'll make them all slaves.

Well, well, say old granny go on with your cause,
My sons they will never submit to your laws,
They ventur'd their lives all over the flood,
And they purchas'd that land with the price of their blood.

I've millions of sons that's American born,
To hold to your slavery they highly it scorn,
They're men of experience in every degree,
And they'll turn your great ships with their helms alee.

Now say noble granny I'll this to you state,
You'll repent of your crimes when it is too late,
An when we have whip'd you and sent your troops home,
My sons shall be free and make laws of their own.

Oh rubber! oh rubber! cries old granny Wales,
The fox in the trap is caught by the tail;
We've men of experience that never will fail,
Here's success to the sons of old granny Wales.

[For tune see song above.]
....................................

For another historical song obviously to this tune, and in which Granu Weale reappears, see "The Hornet and the Peacock" in the Digital Tradition Database. Thanks to Dick Greenhaus for this referrence. A fragment of it (which does not mention Granuaile), and which is to a different tune is "The peacock that lived in the land of King George" in Mary Eddy's 'Songs and Ballads of Ohio', #107.

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Langolee

Ye Ladies attend to your juvenile poet,
  Whose labours are always devoted to ye,
Whose ambition it is, and most of you know it,
  To charm all your hearts, with his Langolee.
    Langolee! what sweet vowels compose it,
      It is the delight of each fair maid that knows it
    And she that does not, may with rapture suppose it,
      That Irish shillalee, call'd Langolee.

The loss of our eminent Handel's lamented,
  Yet in this opinion all ladies agree,
That his solos, concertos, and all he invented,
  Could ne'er charm their senses like Langolee.
     Langolee, oh! Handel resign it,
       The contest is vain, you had better decline it;
     For musical ladies thus chose to define it,
     The gamut of music is Langolee.

Ye languishing beauties, with asthma disorder'd,
  If from the consumption you'd wish to be free,
My sweet pretty patients, take this that is order'd,
  The pectoral essence, call'd Langolee.
     Langolee makes a noble decoction,
     'Tis a nice three-square root of true Irish extraction;
     Dear Ladies pray always take for your protection
     That Irish physician, call'd Langolee.

This elixir, this wonderful physic,
  Cure female disorders of every degree;
The young of green-sickness, the old of the phthisic,
  And makes them alert, and as brisk as a bee.
     Langolee! to prevent imposition,
     You'll get it of none but an Irish physician,
     Made up un triangular pills for emission
     That Hibernian coltsfoot, call'd Langolee.
The song here is from The Festival of Anacreon, London: L. Halland, Seventh Edition, 1789. A second 'Seventh Edition,' without date was published by George Peacock, c 1791, with a few additional songs. The publisher's names here and the edition numbers are undoubtably fake. The 'Halland' edition is probably the second. The actual publisher was undoubtably Wm. Holland, whose name appears on the frontispieces of both parts of the 'Peacock' edition. A book by Holland, containing several of the same songs as in The Festival of Anacreon, and in the same type and style, will be noted below.

The song and tune here are both entitled "Langolee." The tune is actually "New Langolee," which is metrically quite different from the original "Langolee," and the latter cannot be the tune for any songs mentioned below. The earliest appearance of the tune that I have seen is among the nine country dance tunes used for a comic dance performance in London, The Irish Fair, 1772, where it is entitled "New Langolee," and is set too high for a vocal score. The tune is also on a single sheet song with music, "Langolee," commencing "There lives a sweet lovely dear Girl in the City," c 1775. This brings in the metaphor used in the songs below. The tune appeared in the Thompsons' Twenty Four Country Dances for the Year 1775, and several songs were written to it about that time, one of which, "The Banks of the Dee", is given as #516 in The Scots Musical Museum.

Play: S1, LANGOLEE, from Irish Fair, 1772

Another "Langolee" song is in both copies of The Festival of Anacreon, and in Songs of Captain Morris. It is Captain Morris's song "The Amors of the Gods," without tune direction, but the first part, at least, of each verse is in the proper meter and has "Langolee" appearing as the same metaphor.

Both of these songs can be see to be similar to "The Kettlebender" which is printed with music in The Muses Delight, Liverpool, p. 99, 1754. The tune of the latter appeared with the same title in J. Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion, Book 11, c 1760. "The Kettlebender" although scored in common time, sounds like an Irish jig, and it has been stated that it is quite similar to the Irish tune by Larry Grogan, c 1725, "Ally (Alicia) Croker," or, later, "Ally Croaker" (a resemblance I do not see at all).

Another song to the tune of "Langolee," is in the c 1791 edition of Festival. This song is entitled "The Irishman's Journey to London," and is without tune citation or attribution. It is by William Collins, and its original appearance seems to have been that in Wm. Reeves' A Picture of Paris, 1790. I do not know what tune was used in this production, but in 1792 Collins sang it in an embellished version of his song concert, 'The Evening Brush' (these commenced before 1789), and his song there with its new title, "Paddy Bull's Expedition," was sung to "Langolee," as evidenced on a single sheet copy of the song with the latter title, with tune given and named "Langolee." "Paddy Bull's Expedition," was printed to "Langolee" in Crosby's Irish Musical Repository, 1808. This song also appeared under the "Irishman's Journey" title in Wm. Holland's Paddy Whack's Bottle Companion, 1791.

An extensively rewritten version of "Langolee" was given in the c 1825, 'Dublin' edition of The Merry Muses of Caledonia. [This work contain six songs from the two editions of The Festival of Anacreon cited above, not counting "Langolee."] It is here appended from a rare reprint in this writer's possession, The Merry Muses of Robert Burns, probably issued about 1935 in New York state, but is dated 1905.

Langolee, II

[Dublin, Merry Muses]

Ye botanists yield, I've discovered a root,
Adapted to females of every degree;
How soverign its virtues, balsamic its fruit;
I hope you'll believe when you hear it from me.
Langolee is the Irish name of it;
Great in the nation already the fame of it;
Make but one trial and quickly you'll see,
There's nothing comparing with Langolee.

When winter's keen blasts are corrected by spring,
The lads and lassies of every town,
Dance 'round the Maypole, for Maypole's the thing,
Expressive of Lango's high fame and renown.
Langolee, wonderful medicine,
Sensitive plant and beggar's best benison;
How happy the island productive of thee
Thou root of all roots, thou Langolee.

Ye matrons afflicted with colic or wind,
Hysterics, or what you call it, from me,
Restorative Lango, a medicine you will find,
'Twill enliven your spirits most wondrously.
Lanmgolee, sweet is the juice of it;
Grently compress it, and gently make use of it.
In city or country, wherever it be,
The sweets are the same of the Langolee.

Ye girls of the cities, with nervous disorders,
If from declensions you'd wish to be free,
Ye dear little gentles pray take what I order,
The Hibernian colt's foot call'd Langolee.
Langolee to prevent imposition,
You'll get it from none but the Irish physician;
Made up in triangular pills for admission;

The Amors of the Gods

[by Capt. Morris, Cf. "The Kettlebender."]

Europa's fair bull, as fam'd Ovid did write,
For love of that nymph ventur'd over the sea,
When he turn'd on his back, she caught hold, in a fright,
On his horn (as she thought) but 'twas Langolee.
The closer she stuck to it - much bolder her spirits grew,
She wish'd that the voyage might continue a month or two;
So safe it appear'd, and indeed 'twas so pleasant to,
Riding astride of Langolee.

On a visit to Leda Jove went as a swan,
And with wings of delight veil'd his favourite she!
On stroking his neck, which she scarcely span,
It quickly became a sweet Langolee:
Langolee, with a root that was feather'd well,
Bold and erect, forc'd into her mossy cell-
First billing - then cooing, at last dropping down it fell,
She sighing, cried - encore - sweet Langolee.

In an amorous mood he to Danae went,
And abundantly shower'd his gold as a fee;
But her melting mind on the bags was more bent,
That hung at the root of his Langolee -
Oh then she sigh'd with looks that spoke soft content
And vow'd from her soul, that such joys she ne'er underwent;
Take the gold - free I give it - since pleasure like this is sent,
Too much I can't spend upon Langolee.

Daphne outstript the fam'd musical God,
And for running so fast was turn'd into a tree;
If instead of his lyre, he had shewn her a rod,
That's known by the name of a Langolee;
From such a temptation Miss Daphne had never fled,
He'd have melted the bosom of that frozen-hearted maid,
Had his honours been plac'd round his tail, and not round his head,
She'd have branch'd from the root of his Langolee.

Mars, an old soldier, who well understood his trade,
When attacking the nymph who sprang from the sea -
He laid by his buckler, his shield, and well-temper'd blade,
And thought himself arm'd with his Langolee:
He open'd his trenches, platoon'd as a soldier should,
Flew to her breast-works, and there made his lodgement good,
First standing - then stooping - at length on his knees he woo'd,
And enter'd the fortress with Langolee.

Thue amorous Ovid, in fanciful fiction,
Sweetly sung of celestials, on land and by sea,
Told what fondness all felt for the lust-melting friction,
And virtue inherent of Langolee.
O! that stately machine, I swear by the might of Jove,
When richly replete with the lewd lucious juicce of love,
Each goddess below feels sensations like those above,
From the full stroke electric of Langolee.

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The Kettlebender.

[This song appears with music in The Muses Delight, Liverpool, 1754. The tune was later given without the song in J. Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Companion. NTI lsits an earlier copy of the tune. One might wonder if Oswald himself didn't compose the tune. Another song containing the allusions to Europa, Leda, and Danae, and substituting "Langolee" for the "Kettlebender" is Captain Morris's "The Amours of the Gods," appended here to "Langolee."]

All you who are fair or witty,
Come and listen to my ditty;
My muse shall sing if you'll attend her,
That same thing call'd the Kettlebender
   O rare Kettlebender O rare Kettle-Kettle-bender.

The Ladies take it all their hands in
That it's the universal medicine
For old or young or weak or tender,
All find ease by the Kettlebender
   O rare Kettlebender, &c.
 
Nay some, who matters fain would gloss over,
Say 'tis the stone of great philosopher;
For hardest hearts it soft will render,
Transmitted by the Kettlebender.
   O rare Kettlebender, &c.

Pray what d'ye think made Portsmouth's dutchess, [Louise      
 Who, or fame lies, a nonsuch was, [ Keroualle, mistress
Stick so close to the Faith's Defender?  [of Charles II
What, but the love for his Kettlebender.
   O rare Kettlebender, &c.

I'm sure if you have learn'd but any ways,
You must have read of Madam Danae,
That bolts nor bars cou'd e'er defend her,
Or keep her safe from Kettlebender.
   O rare Kettlebender, &c.

Europa's ease you've heard, I'm satisfy'd,
How, fearless, on the bull she sat astride;
Nor waves, nor rocks, her flight could hinder,
She stuck so close to the Kettlebender.
   O rare Kettlebender, &c.

It went so hard too with poor Leda,
Who was afraid to die a maid-a,
That to a swan she did surrender,
Rather than want a Kettlebender,
   O rare Kettlebender, &c.

I must name Proserpine to you too,
Who ravish'd was, they say, by Pluto;
Was she so?-- the devil mend her,
She went to hell for the Kettlebender
   O rare Kettlebender, &c.
Play: S1, KTLBNDR, from Muses Delight

Louise Keroualle, Dutchess of Portsmouth, mistress of Charles II, was not well like by the English. She made a trip to France in 1682?, and on her return the following was written, which is about as obscene as anything I've ever seen. Nothing is as vile as political slander. No too much new there. An earler mistress of his, and of severaal others, was Barbara Villiers, on whom a poem is given very near the end here. [Charles was noted for ennobling all of his bastards and dutchessing all of his whores (except Nell Gwinn).] For another political diatribe of about the same date as our one above see "An Historical Ballad"

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Portsmouth's Return to a new Scotch Tune

[Bodleian MS Rawl. 159. 1682. See Roxburghe Ballads, IV, p. 278] without tune indication in BL MS Harl. 6914, and Victoria and Albert Museum MS D.25.F.37.

Our Morarch's whore from France is come   
  Since Vandom's Bugg'ring Tarse
Has fallen foul on Crequy's Bum,
  Instead of Portsmouth's Arse
So great affront would make one run
  From such a wicked place
Where Arse has had such honour done
  And C--- in such disgrace

Now she's return'd bright as the Sun
  So sparkish & so fair
And brought great Charles a butter'd Bun   
  A present from Navarr:
She had not gone, but to contrive
  New fashions for the Court;
Both how to Dress, and how to Swive,
  And to improve that Sport

Buckley obligingly has brought
  Both for herself, and Friends,
New swinging Dildoes, richly wrought
  With Satin & Velvet ends:
With Furling water, to draw't up streight,
  And Rowels to heighten delights
New-fashion'd Springs, to Scour her Twat
  From slimy sperm, & whites.

Now Nelly you must be content  [Nelly- Nell Gwin]
  Her grace begins her Reign
For all your Brat, you may be sent
  To Dorset back again
Your Hagged Carcase yeilds no delight,
  As Grafton of late has said    [Duke of Grafton]
Nor Jennings, nor betraying Knight
  Can bring you to Charles's Bed 

Portsmouth has play'd so damn'd a trick
  Mazarine is sore distrest  [French Dutchess of Mazarine]
She's taken to herself his P----
  Bought Dildoes for the rest
But Stallion Pilty swears by C--
  He'l F--- with all his might
For to avenge the great affront
  And set his Dutchess right
Tune unknown

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Patrick O'Neal.

Ye sons of Hibernia, who sung on dry land,
Round your smoaking turf fires, and whiskey in hand,
Drink kaid-milk, full rough, and ne'er think of the boys,
Who are fighting your battles thru' tempest and noise,
Attend to my ditty -- 'tis true, I declare,
Such swimming and sinking would make you all stare;
For stortns, squibs, and crackers, have sing'd my tail,
Since the press-gang laid hold on poor Patrick O'Neal.

'Twas the first day of April, I sat off, like a fool,
From Kilkenny to Dublin, to see Lawrence Tool,
My mother's third cousin, who oft' had wrote down,
And begg'd I'd come to see how he flourish'd in town;
But I scarce had set foot in this terrible place,
'Ere I met with a sharper who swore to my face;
He beckon'd a press-gang that came without fail,
And neck and heels dragg'd off poor Patrick O'Neal.

Then they scamper'd away, as they said, with a prize,
(For they thought me a sailor run off in disguise)
But a terrible blunder they made with their strife,
For I'd ne'er seen a ship, or the sea in my life;
And away to a tender they bade me to steer,
But of tenderness devil a morsel was there;
O! [I] roar'd and I curs'd, tho' it did not avail'
Then down in the cellar cram'd Patrick O'Neal.

We set off from Dublin the very next day,
'Twas half-starv'd and sea-sick the rest of the way;
Not a mile-stone I saw, nor a house, nor a bed,
'Twas all water and sky 'till we came to Spithead;
Then they call'd up all hands --- hands and feet soon obey'd,
O [I] wish'd myself home cutting turf with a spade;
For the first thing I saw made my courage to fail,
Was a great floating castle for Patrick O'Neal.

This huge wooden world roll' about on the tide,
With a large row of teeth stuck fast to her side,
They put out the boat, and they told me to keep
Fast hold with my trotters for fear I should slip--
I let go with my hands to stick fast by my toes,
The ship gave a roll and away my head goes,
I plung'd in the water and dash'd like a whale,
'Till with boat-hooks they fish up poor Patrick O'Neal.

Midsts shouts, jests, and laughter they hoisted me in
To this huge wooden world full of riot and din;
Such ropes, and such pullies, such sighs [sights] met my eye,
And so large were the sheets that they hung up to dry:
And I thought it was Noah's ark, stuff'd full of queer guests,
Hogs, pedlars, geese, sailor, and all other beasts--
Some drinking bladders of gin, some drank pitchers of ale,
And they sung, curs'd, and laughed at poor Patrick O'Neal.

All confounded with bother I began to look queer,
When the boatswain's shrill pipe made all hands appear,
Up the ropes like monkies they singing did swear,
Then like gibbets and rope-dancers swung in the air;
They clapt sticks in a capstan, (as I afterwards found)
The chap sat and fif'd as they turned him around;
The ship run her anchor, spread