1. |
William Taylor
03:02
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William Taylor
I’ll sing you a song of two young lovers
Down from Lichfield town they came
And the young man’s name was William Taylor
Sarah Gray was the maiden’s name
William Taylor he has enlisted
For a soldier he has gone
And he’s gone and he’s left his own true lover
For to sigh and for to mourn
And Sally’s parents they have abused her
Filled her heart with grief and woe
And for to seek William Taylor
For a soldier she would go
She’s dressed herself in man’s apparel
Man’s apparel she’s put on
And for to seek young William Taylor
For a soldier she has gone
One day as she was exercising
Exercising one two three
A silver chain fell down from her waistcoat
And exposed her lilywhite breast
The sergeant he stepped up to her
And asked the young lady what brings you here
I come in search of William Taylor
Who was pressed from me last year
Oh if you come in search of William Taylor
William Taylor he’s not here
For I do hear that he’s to married
To some lovely lady so fare
And if you rise early in the morning
Early at the break of day
It’s there you’ll see young William Taylor
Walking out with a lady so gay
So she’s rosed early in the morning
Early at the break of day
And there she’s spied William Taylor
Walking out with a lady so gay
So she’s rosed early in the morning
Early at the break of day
And there she’s spied William Taylor
Walking out with a lady so gay
And she has called for a brace of pistols
A brace of pistols was brought to her hand
And she shot William Taylor
With his bride at his right hand
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2. |
Newlyn Town
03:52
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NEWLYN TOWN
In Newlyn Town I was bred and born
At Stephen’s Green there I die in scorn
I served me time at the saddling trade
And I was always
And I was always a roving blade
At seventeen I took a wife
And I loved her dear as I loved me life
To keep her happy both night and day
I went a-robbing
I went a-robbing on the broad highway
I robbed Lord Golding I do declare
And Lady Mansfield in Grosvenor Square
I shut the shutters and bid them good night
And home I took my loot
And home I took my loot to my heart’s delight
To Covent Garden we went straightway
To Covent Garden to see a play
Ned Fielding’s gang there did me pursue
And I was taken
And I was taken by that cursed crew
And when I’m dead and go to my grave
A fine and flashy funeral let me have
With six bold highwaymen to carry me
Give them broadswords
Oh give them broadswords and sweet liberty
Oh six pretty doxies to carry my pall
Give them white ribbons and gloves and all
That when I’m gone they will tell it true
There goes a wild young man
There goes a wild young man and a wicked youth
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3. |
Poor Murdered Woman
04:20
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POOR MURDERED WOMAN
It was Hanky the Squire as I’ve heard them tell
He went out a-hunting all on one fine day
He went out a-hunting but nothing he found
But a poor murdered woman laid on the cold ground
About eight o’clock, boys, our dogs they throwed off
To Leatherhead Common and that was the spot
They tried all the bushes but nothing they found
But a poor murdered woman laid on the cold ground
They whipped their dogs off and they kept them away
For I do think it is proper that she should have fair play
They tried all the bushes but nothing they found
But a poor murdered woman laid on the cold ground
They mounted their horses and they rode off the ground
They rode to the village and alarmed it all around
It is late in the evening, I am sorry to say
She cannot be removed until the next day.
The next Sunday morning about eight o’clock
Some hundreds of people to the spot they did flock
For to see that poor creature it would make your hearts bleed
Some cold-hearted violence came into their heads
She was took off the common and down to some inn
And the man that has kept it his name is John Sims
The coroner was sent for and the jury they joined
And soon they concluded and they settled their mind
A coffin was brought and in it she was laid
And took to the churchyard in fair Leatherhead
No father, no mother, nor no friend at all
Came to see the poor creature put under the mould
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4. |
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5. |
Sir Patrick Spens
05:25
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SIR PATRICK SPENS
Oh the King he sits in Dunfermline Town
A-drinking the blood-red wine
Oh where will I find a good mariner
To sail seven ships of mine
Then up and spoke a fine young man
Sat at the King’s right knee
Sir Patrick Spens is the best mariner
Who ever sailed on the sea
And the King has written a broad letter
And signed it with his own hand
And he’s sent it off to Sir Patrick Spens
A-walking along the strand
And the very first line that Patrick he read
A little loud laugh gave he
And the very last line that Patrick he read
The salt tear spilled his eye
Oh who is he that has done this deed
And told the King on me
For never was I a good mariner
And never do intend to be
And it’s late yest’re’en I saw the new moon
With the old moon in her arms
And I fear, I fear a deadly storm
Our little ship will come to harm
But rise up, rise up my merry men all
Our little ship she sails in the morn
Whether it’s windy or whether it’s wet
Or whether there’s a deadly storm
And they hadn’t been sailing a league or more
A league but barely nine
When the wind and wet and sleet and snow
Came blowing up behind
Oh where will I find a good cabin boy
To take the helm in hand
That I might go to the topmast high
To see if I can’t spy land
Come down come down Sir Patrick Spens
I fear that we all must die
For it’s in and out of the good ship’s hull
The wind and the ocean fly
And the very first step that Patrick he took
The water it came to his knee
And the very next step that Patrick he took
All drowned they were in the sea
And it’s many was the fine feather bed
That floated on the foam
And it’s many was the little lords’ son
That never, never more came home
And it’s long, long may their ladies sit
With their fans all in their hands
Before they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come a-walking along the strand
For it’s fifteen miles to Aberdeen shore
It’s fifty fathoms deep
And there does lie Sir Patrick Spens
With the little lords at his feet
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6. |
The Gower Wassail
04:07
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7. |
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VAN DIEMEN’S LAND
Come, all you gallant poachers
That ramble free from care
That walk out of a moonlight night
With your dog your gun and snare
Where the lusty hare and pheasant
You have at your command
Not thinking that your last career
Is on Van Diemen’s Land
There was poor Tom Brown from Nottingham
Jack Williams, and poor Joe
Were three as daring poachers
As the country well does know
At night they were trepanned
By the keepers hid in sand
And for fourteen years transported were
Unto Van Diemen’s Land
Oh when that we were landed
Upon that fatal shore
The planters they came flocking round
Full twenty score or more
They ranked us up like horses
And sold us out of hand
They yoked us to the plough my boys
To plough Van Diemen’s Land
Come all you gallant poachers
Give ear unto my song
It is a bit of good advice
Although it is not long
Lay by your dog and snare
To you I do speak plain
If you knew the hardships we endure
You ne’er would poach again
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8. |
An Dro / The Dhu Hill
03:56
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The Jones Boys Sandwich, UK
The Jones Boys play an exciting blend of mostly traditional music from Ireland, England, Shetland, Scotland, Brittany,
Sweden, Bulgaria and beyond!
The current line up is:
Sam Sloan – button accordion, anglo concertina, keyboards, trumpet and vocals;
Gordon Jackson – vocals, octave mandola, low whistle and percussion.
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