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The Lass Of Roch Royal (Child 76)

from Blood & Roses Volume 5 by Ewan MacColl & Peggy Seeger

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This ballad has probably produced more offshoots then any other in the United States - it has been picked to pieces and whole sections of it have floated off to make lyrice pieces, children's songs and fragments. Indeed, my version is a collation built up over the years and tried out with sevoral tunes. Most of my verses probably come from North Carolina and the surrounding states. David Fowler, in the Journal of American Folklore (1958) presents a case for the identity of the "Lass" as "The Accused Queen", heroine of mediaeval folktale and romance. She is best known as Constance, the virtuous lady of "The Man of Laws Tale" of Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.

lyrics

O who will shoe my pretty little foot,
Who will glove my hand?
Who will kiss my rosy lips
When you're in a foreign land?

Your papa can shoe your pretty little foot,
Your mama can glove your hand,
I will kiss your rosy lips
When I come back again.

O, if I had a sailing boat
And men to sail with me -
I'd sail tonight to my own love
Since he will not sail to me.

Her father made her a sailing boat.
And sent her to the strand;
She set her baby on her lap
And turned her back to land.

She hadn't been a-sailing about three months
It was not more than four,
When she brought her sailing boat
Right to her lover's door.

She's took her baby in her arms
And to his door she's gone,
She called, she cried, she called again
But answer got she none.

The night was dark and the wind was cold,
Her lover was asleep,
And the baby in poor Annie's arms
Began to cry and weep.

O, open the door, my own true love,
Open the door, I pray,
Your young child that's in my arms
Will be dead before it's day.

Go away, you wild woman,
For here you cannot stay,
Go drown you in the salt, salt sea,
Or hang on the gallows tree.

Don't you remember, my true love,
When we sat at the wine?
We changed the rings from our fingers,
And the brightest one was mine.

Don't you remember, my true love,
The vow you made to me?
We vowed an oath and it bound us both
For the years that are to be.

Go away, you wild woman,
For here you can't come in,
Go drown you in the salt, salt sea
Or hang on the gallows pin.

The cock did crow, the sun did rise
And through the window peep;
Up he rose, her own true love,
And sorely did he weep.

O, mother, I dreamed of my true love,
She lives across the sea;
I dreamed she stood at our front door
A-weepin' sore for me.

There were a lady here last night
With a baby in her arms,
I would not let her in to you
For fear she'd do you harm.

He ran, he ran to the salt sea-shore
And looked out on the foam,
There he saw fair Annie's boat
Go tossin' toward her home.

He called, he cried, he waved his hand,
He bid her sore to stay,
The more he called and the more he cried,
The louder roared the sea.

The wind did blow and the sea did roar,
It tossed her boat on shore,
It brought his true love to his feet
But he saw his son no more.

The first he kissed her rev'ly cheek,
The next he kissed her chin -
Then he kissed her rosy lips,
There was no life within.

Don't you remember, my true love,
When we sat at the wine?
We changed the rings from our fingers
And the brightest one was mine.

Don't you remember, my true love.
The vow you made to me?
We vowed an oath, and it bound us both
For the years that are to be.

A curse I put on thee, mother,
A curse I put on thee!
That you would not let my Annie in
When she come so far to me.

credits

from Blood & Roses Volume 5, released September 14, 1986
Peggy Seeger - vocals, banjo
Neill MacColl - guitar

Produced by Calum MacColl
Engineered by Nigel Cazaly

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Ewan MacColl London, UK

This site is maintained by the MacColl family, aiming to make Ewan's catalogue available to download.
Ewan MacColl is known to most as a songwriter and singer, but he was also of significant influence in the worlds of theatre and radio broadcasting. His art reached huge numbers through the folk clubs, greater numbers through his recordings and untold millions through the radio. ... more

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