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Tim Jenkins, Balladeer: Music

Lass of Roch Royal (Child 76)

(Tim Jenkins, Balladeer)
August 8, 2010
Traditional


“O who will lace my shoes so small?
And who will glove my hand?
Or who will lace my middle so jimp
With my new made linen band?

“Who will trim my yellow hair
With my new silver comb?
And who will father my young son
‘Til Lord Gregory comes home?”

“Your father will lace your shoes so small,
Your mother will glove your hand;
Your sister will lace your middle so jimp
With your new made linen band.

Your brother will trim your yellow hair
With a new silver comb;
And the king of heaven will father your son
‘Til Lord Gregory comes home.”

“But I will get a bonnie boat,
And I will sail the sea,
For I must go to Lord Gregory,
Since he cannot come home to me.”

She has gotten a bonnie boat,
And sailed upon the main;
For she longed to see her own true love,
Since he could not come home.

 “O row your boat, my mariners,
And bring me to the land,
For there I see my love’s castle
Close by the salt sea strand.”

She’s taken her young son in her arms,
And to the door she’s gone,
And long she knocked and loud she called,
But answer got she none.

 “O open the door, Lord Gregory,
O open and let me in,
For the wind blows cold through my yellow hair,
And I’m shivering to the chin.”

 “Away, away you wild woman,
Some ill death my you dee;
You’re but some witch or wild warlock
Or mermaid of the sea.”

“I’m not a witch nor a wild warlock,
Nor mermaid of the sea;
But I’m fair Annie of Roch Royal,
O open the door to me.”

“If you be Annie of Roch Royal,
As I trust you cannot be,
Pray tell me some of the love tokens
That passed between you and me.”

“O don’t you mind, Lord Gregory,
When you sat at the wine,
We changed the rings from our fingers
And I can show you thine.

For yours was good and very good,
But aye the best was mine;
For yours was of the good red gold,
But mine of diamonds fine.

“O don’t you mind, Lord Gregory,
By bonnie Irwine side,
When first I owned that virgin love
I long, long had denied!

 “O don’t you mind, Lord Gregory,
When in my father’s hall,
‘Twas there you got your will of me,
And that was worst of all?”

“Away, away you wild woman
For here you cannot come in.
Go drown you in the raging sea
Or hang on the gallows pin.”

When the cock did crow and the day did dawn,
And the sun began to peep,
Then up did rise Lord Gregory,
And sore, sore did he weep.

“I dreamed a dream, my mother dear,
The thought of it makes me weep;
I dreamed fair Annie of Roch Royal
Lay cold dead at my feet.”

“If it be for Annie of Roch Royal
That you make all this din,
She stood all last night at our door,
Bit I would not let her in.”

“O woe betide you, cruel woman,
Some ill death may you dee,
That you would not let poor Annie in,
Or else have wakened me.”

He’s gone down to yon sea shore
As fast as he could fare;
He saw fair Annie in her boat,
And the wind it tossed her sore.

“Hey bonnie Annie”, and “How bonnie Annie,
O Annie, will you not bide?”
But aye the more bonnie Annie he cried,
The rougher grew the tide.

It’s “Hey bonnie Annie”, and “How bonnie Annie,
Bonnie Annie will you speak to me?”
But aye the more bonnie Annie he cried,
The rougher grew the sea.

The wind blew loud, and the sea grew rough,
And the boat was dashed on shore.
Fair Annie floated on the tide
But her young son rose no more.

Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair,
And made a heavy moan;
Fair Annie’s corpse lay at his feet,
But his bonnie young son was gone.

First he kissed her cherry cheeks,
And next he kissed her chin,
Then softly pressed her rosy lips,
That had no breath within.

“O woe betide you, cruel mother,
An ill death may you dee,
For you turned my true love from my door,
When she came so far to me.”

“O woe betide you, cruel mother,
Some ill death may you dee,
That you would not let fair Annie in,
When she came so far for me.”

jimp: slender
dee: die