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Steeleye Span




Альбом Steeleye Span


Parcel of Rogues (1973)
1973
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Robbery With Violins (instrumental)
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
. . .


One misty moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather,
I met with an old man a-clothed all in leather,
He was clothed all in leather with a cap beneath his chin, singin':"How d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again"
This rustic was a treasure as on his way he hide
And with a leather bottle fast buckled by his side
He wore no shirt upon his back with wool unto his skin, singin':

I went a little further and there I met a maid
Oh are you goin' a-milking? Milkin's o'er she said
Then I began to compliment and she began to sing, sayin':

This maid, her name was Dolly, clothed in a gown of grey
I being somewhat jolly, persuaded her to stay
And straight I fell a-courting her in hopes her love to win, singin':
I having time and leisure, I spent a vacant hour
A-telling of my treasure while sitting in the bower
And then in kind embraces I stroked her double chin, singin':

I said that I would married be and she would be my bride
And along we should not tarry, and twenty things beside
I'll plough and sow and reap and mow and you shall sit and spin, singin':

Her parents then consented, all parties were agreed
Her portion thirty shillings, we married were with speed
Then Will, the piper, he did play, while others dance and sing, sayin':

Then lusty rovin' robin with many damsels gay
To drive and roam to dawning to celebrate the day
And when they met together, their caps they oft-did fling, sayin':

. . .


Oh, Allison Gross, that lives in yon tower
The ugliest witch in the north country
Has trysted me one day up in her bower
And many fair speech she made to me

She stroked my head and she combed my hair
And she set me down softly on her knee
Says, "Gin ye will be my leman so true
Sae many braw things as I would ye gi'"

She showed me a mantle of red scarlet
With golden flowers and fringes fine
Says, "Gin ye will be my leman so true
This goodly gift it shall be thine"

"Away, away, you ugly witch
Hold far away and let me be
I never will be your leman so true
And I wish I were out of your company"

She next brought me a sark of the softest silk
Well wrought with pearls about the band
Says, "Gin ye will be my ain true love
This goodly gift you shall command"

She showed me a cup of the good red gold
Well set with jewels so fair to see
Says, "Gin ye will be my leman sae true
This goodly gift I will ye gi'"

"Away, away, you ugly witch
Hold far away and let me be
For I wouldna aince kiss your ugly mouth
For all the gifts that you could gi'"

She's turned her right and round about
And thrice she blew on a grass-green horn
And she swore by the moon and the stars abeen
That she would gar me rue the day I was born

Then out she has taken a silver wand
And she's turned her three times round and round
She's muttered such words till my strength it failed
And I fell down senseless upon the ground

She's turned me into an ugly worm
And gard me toddle around the tree
And aye, on ilka Saturday night
My sister Maisry came to me

With silver basin and silver comb
To comb my head upon her knee
Before I had kissed her ugly mouth
I'd rather have toddled about the tree

But as it fell out on last Halloween
When the seely court was riding by
The queen lighted down on a rowan bank
Not far frae the tree where I wont to lie

She took me up in her milk white hand
And she's stroked me three times on her knee
She changed me again to my ain proper shape
And I nae more maun toddle about the tree

Child #35

. . .


Concerning of three young men
One night in January
According laws contrary
A-poaching went straightway

They were inclined to ramble
Amongst the trees and brambles
A-firing at the pheasants
Which brought the keepers nigh

The keepers dared not enter
Nor cared the woods to venture
But outside near the centre
In them old bush they stood

The poachers they were tired
And to leave they were desired
At at last young Parkins fired
And spilled one keeper's blood

Fast homeward they were making
Nine pheasants they were taking
When another keeper faced them
They fired at him also

He on the ground lay crying
Just like some person dying
With no assistance nigh him
May God forgive their crime

Then they were taken with speed
All for that inhuman deed
It caused their hearts to bleed
For their young tender years

There seen before was never
Three brothers tried together
Three brothers condemned for poaching
Found guilty as they stood

Exiled in transportation
Two brothers they were taken
And the other hung as a token
May God forgive their crime

. . .


As I was going to Aylesbury all on a market day
A pretty little Aylesbury girl I met upon the way
Her business was to market with butter, cheese and whey
And we both jogged on together my boys fol-der-o diddle-o-day
And we both jogged on together my boys fol-der-o diddle-o-day

As we jogged on together my boys together side by side
By chance this fair maid's garter it came untied
For fear that she might lose it I unto her did say
Your garter's come untied my love fol-der-o diddle-o-day
Your garter's come untied my love fol-der-o diddle-o-day

As we rode on together my boys to the outskirts of the town
At length this fair young damsel she stopped and looked around
O since you've been so venturesome pray tie it up for me
O I will if you go to the apple grove fol-der-o diddle-o-day
O I will if you go to the apple grove fol-der-o diddle-o-day

And when we got to the apple grove the grass was growing high
I laid this girl upon her back her garter for to tie
While tying of her garter such sights I never did see
And we both jogged on together my boys fol-der-o diddle-o-day
And we both jogged on together my boys fol-der-o diddle-o-day

O since you've had your will of me come tell to me your name
Likewise your occupation and where and whence you came
Ma name is Mickey the drover boy from Dublin town come I
And I live at the sign of the Ups And Downs fol-der-o diddle-o-day
And I live at the sign of the Ups And Downs fol-der-o diddle-o-day

And when she got to Aylesbury her butter was not sold
And the losing of her maidenhead it made her blood run cold
He's gone, he's gone, he's gone, she said, he's not the lad for me
For he lives at the sign of the Ups And Downs fol-der-o diddle-o-day
For he lives at the sign of the Ups And Downs fol-der-o diddle-o-day

. . .

Robbery With Violins

[Нет текста]

. . .


Twas down by Carterhaugh Father
Between the water and the wall
There i met with a wee wee man
And he was the least that ever I saw

His legs were scarce a finger's length
And thick and nimble was his knee
Between his eyes a flee could go
Between his shoulders were inches three

Chorus:
His beard was long and white as as swan
His robe was neither green nor grey
He clapped his hands, down came the mist
And he sank and he's fainted clean away
He pulled up a stone six feet in height
And flung it farther than I could see
And though I'd been a giant born
I'd never had lifted it to my knee

O Wee Wee Man but thou are strong
Come tell me where thy dwelling be
I dwell beneath a bonny green bower
O will ye come with me and see?

Chorus

We rode on and we sped on
Until we came to a bonny green hall
The roof was made of the beaten gold
And purest crystal was the floor

There were pipers playing on every stair
And ladies dancing in glistering green
He clapped his hands, down came the mist
And the man and the hall no more were seen

Chorus

. . .


When I was a tailor I carried my bodkin and shears
When I was a weaver I carried my roods and my gear
My temples also, my small clothes and reed in my hand
And wherever I go, here's the jolly bold weaver again

I'm a hand weaver to my trade
I fell in love with a factory maid
And if I could but her favour win
I'd stand beside her and weave by steam

My father to me scornful said
How could you fancy a factory maid
When you could have girls fine and gay
Dressed like unto the Queen of May

As for your fine girls I don't care
If I could but enjoy my dear
I'd stand in the factory all the day
And she and I'd keep our shuttles in play

I went to my love's bedroom door
Where often times I had been before
But I could not speak nor yet get in
The pleasant bed that my love laid in

How can you say it's a pleasant bed
Where nowt lies there but a factory maid?
A factory lass although she be
Blest in the man that enjoys she

O pleasant thoughts come to my mind
As I turn doen the sheets so fine
And I seen her two breasts standing so
Like two white hills all covered with snow

The loom goes click and the loom goes clack
The shuttle flies forward and then flies back
The weaver's so bent that he's like to crack
Such a wearisome trade is the weaver's

The yarn is made into cloth at last
The ends of weft they are made quite fast
The weaver's labour are now all past
Such a wearisome trade is the weaver's

Where are the girls I will tell you plain
The girls have gone to weave by steam
And if you'd find them you must rise at dawn
And trudge to the mill in the early morn

When I was a tailor I carried my bodkin and shears
When I was a weaver I carried my roods and my gear
My temples also, my small clothes and reed in my hand
And wherever I go, here's the jolly bold weaver again

. . .


Farewell to all our Scottish fame
Farewell our ancient glory
Farewell even to our Scottish name
Sae fam'd in martial story
Now Sark runs over the Solway sands
And Tweed runs to the ocean
To mark where England's province stands:
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

What force or gile could not subdue
Through many warlike ages
Is wrought now by a coward few
For hireling traitor's wages
The English steel we could disdain
Secure in valour's station
But English gold has been our bane:
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

I would, or I had seen the day
That treason thus could sell us
My auld gray head had lain in clay
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace!
But pith and power, till my last hour
I'll make this declaration
We were bought and sold for English gold:
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

. . .


Cam ye o'er frae France? Cam ye down by Lunnon?
Saw ye Geordie Whelps and his bonny woman?
Were ye at the place ca'd the Kittle Housie?
Saw ye Geordie's grace riding on a goosie?

Geordie he's a man there is little doubt o't;
He's done a' he can, wha can do without it?
Down there came a blade linkin' like my lordie;
He wad drive a trade at the loom o' Geordie.

Though the claith were bad, blythly may we niffer;
Gin we get a wab, it makes little differ.
We hae tint our plaid, bannet, belt and swordie,
Ha's and mailins braid -- but we hae a Geordie!

Jocky's gane to France and Montgomery's lady;
There they'll learn to dance: Madam, are ye ready?
They'll be back belyve belted, brisk and lordly;
Brawly may they thrive to dance a jig wi' Geordie!

Hey for Sandy Don! Hey for Cockolorum!
Hey for Bobbing John and his Highland Quorum!
Mony a sword and lance swings at Highland hurdie;
How they'll skip and dance o'er the bum o' Geordie!

. . .


Young women they run like hares on the mountain
And if I was a young man I'd soon go a-hunting

Young women they sing like birds in the bushes
If I was a young man I'd go beat them bushes

Young women they swim like ducks in the water
If I was a young man I'd soon go swim after

Young women they run like hares on the mountain
And if I was a young man I'd soon go a-hunting

. . .


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