There are many versions of this. There is a verse about monkeys that I had never heard, so I opted for a different version. This version has a slightly non-traditional tune to it, but it was the one I liked best -- not preschoolish, not animated. Here it is:
This month's folk song on the Ambleside Online Folk Song rotation is called The Rising of the Moon. It is an old Irish ballad based on the uprising of 1798. Here is the link I am sharing for you all:
It might not be the best recording of the recordings available, but at least it doesn't have an inappropriate commercial before the song, like one of the other recordings.
Hope you enjoy it. The lyrics are included, but can also be found here:
The Ambleside Online Folk Song Rotation song planned for April, 2014, is Scarborough Faire:
The traditional arrangement I love is Simon and Garfunkle:
But there is room for newer arrangements too: Are you going to Scarborough Faire? Parsley, sage, rosemary
and thyme. Remember me to one who lived there. She once was a true love
of mine.
Have
her make me a cambric shirt Parsley,
sage, rosemary and thyme. Without no seams, nor fine needle work. Then
she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell
her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane. Parsley,
sage, rosemary and thyme Gather it up in a basket of flowers Then she'll
be a true love of mine.
Have
her wash it in yonder dry well Parsley,
sage, rosemary and thyme Where water ne'er sprung, nor drop of rain fell.
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell
her to to find me an acre of land. Parsley,
sage, rosemary and thyme Between the sea foam and over the sand. Then
she'll be a true love of mine.
Plow
the land with the horn of a lamb. Parsley,
sage, rosemary and thyme Then sow some seeds from north of the dam. Then
she'll be a true love of mine.
Have
her reap it with a sickle of leather. Parsley,
sage, rosemary and thyme Gather it up in a bunch of heather. Then she'll
be a true love of mine. If she tells
me she can't, then I'll reply. Parsley,
sage, rosemary and thyme Let me know, that at least she will try. Then
she'll be a true love of mine.
Love
imposes impossible tasks Parsley,
sage, rosemary and thyme Though not more than any heart asks. And I must
know she's true love of mine. When
thou has finished thy task. Parsley,
sage, rosemary and thyme Come to me my hand for to ask. For then you'll
be a true love of mine. Additional
verses: Tell
her to dry it on yonder thorn, Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, Which
never bore blossom since Adam was born, And then she'll be a true love of
mine.
Ask her
to do me this courtesy, Parsely, sage, rosemary, and thyme, And ask
for a like favor from me, And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Have
you been to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, Remember
me from one who lives there, For he once was a true love of mine.
When
he has done and finished his work, Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Ask him to come for his cambric shirt, For then he'll be a true love of mine.
The Ambleside Online Folk Song Rotation has designated the folk song selection for March, 2014 to be "Down in the Valley". Below are the lyrics and two selections from YouTube for your enjoyment. One of the video/music selections is Burl Ives, because I have such fond memories of his singing from my childhood in the early 60's. The second video selection is from "Andy of Maybury."
Down in the Valley Down in the valley, the valley so low
The January 2014 Folk Song selection, by Ambleside Online, is Battle of Otterburn. The first video below shows, in print, the history of the Battle of Otterburn, while simultaneously having the song play in the background. I can't process both simultaneously, so I recommend playing the video once with sound off, reading the words to your students, and then play with the sound on, or play the second video selection below the second time. I realy like the accent of the singer on the first video though, although I'm not clear on the meaning of all the words yet. I'll work on that...
It fell about the Lammas time,
When muir-men win their hay,
The doughty Douglas bound him ride,
Tae England tae catch a prey,
He’s ta’en the Gordons and the Graemes,
And the Lindsays light and gai,
But the Jardines wad not wi’ him ride,
And they rue it tae this day.
And he has burnt the dales of Tyne,
And part o’ Banbrough shire,
The Otter dale he’s burnt it hale,
And set it a’ on fire,
And he raed up tae Newcastle,
And rode it roond aboot,
Saying, “whar’s the laird o’ this castle,
And whar’s the lady o’t?”
And up spake braw Lord Percy then,
And O but he spak hie,
“I am the lord o’ this castle,
My wife’s the lady gaye.
If thou’rt the lord o’ this castle,
Sae weel it pleases me,
For ere I cross the Border fells,
The tane o’ us shall die.”
They lichted high on Otterburn,
Upon the bank sae bruin,
They lichted high on Otterburn,
And threw their broadswords doon,
But up there spoke a bonnie boy,
Before the break o’ dawn,
Saying, “Wake ye now my good lord sir,
Lord Percy’s near at hand”.
When Percy wi’ the Douglas met,
I wat he was fu’ fain,
They swak’d swords and sair they swat,
And blood ran doon between,
But Percy wi’ his guid braid sword,
That could sae sharply wound,
Has wounded Douglas on the brow,
Till he fell tae the ground.
Then he call'd on his little foot-page, And said, "Run speedilie, And fetch my ain dear sister's son, Sir Hugh Montgomery."
"My nephew good," the Douglas said, "What recks the death of ane! Last night I dreamed a dreary dream, And I ken the day's thy ain."
"My wound is deep; I fain would sleep; Take thou the vanguard of the three, And hide me by the braken-bush, That grows on yonder lilye lee."
"O bury me by the braken-bush, Beneath the blooming brier; Let never a living mortal ken That ere a kindly Scot lies here."
He lifted up that noble lord, Wi the saut tear in his ee; He hid him in the braken-bush, That his merrie men might not see.
The moon was clear, the day drew near, The spears in flinders flew, But mony a gallant Englishman Ere day the Scotsmen slew.
The Gordons good, in English blood They steepd their hose and shoon; The Lindsays flew like fire about, Till all the fray was done.
The Percy and Montgomery met, That either of other were fain ; They swapped* swords, and they twa swat, And aye the blood ran down between.
"Now yield thee, yield thee, Percy," he said, "Or else I vow I'll lay thee low!" "To whom must I yield," quoth Earl Percy, "Now that I see it must be so?"
"Thou shalt not yield to lord nor loun," Nor shalt thou yield to me; But yield to the braken-bush, That grows upon yon lilye lee. "
"I will not yield to a braken-bush, Nor yet will I yield to a brier; But I would yield to Earl Douglas, Or Sir Hugh Montgomery, if he were here."
As soon as he knew it was Montgomery, He struck his sword's point in the gronde; The Montgomery was a courteous knight, And quickly took him by the honde.
This deed was done at the Otterbourne, About the breaking of the day; Earl Douglas was buried at the braken-bush, And the Percy led captive away.
The Ambleside Online Folk Song selection for November, 2013 is an Irish ballad entitled Rose of Tralee.
Here are a couple of video/music combinations for you to consider/select from for use with your student when singing this song this month. The lyrics are also below for you to print out if you like. The first one is easier to understand, but the second has more of a traditional Irish sound.
The pale moon was rising above the green mountain
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea
When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain
That stands in beautiful vale of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer
Yet, 'twas not her beauty alone that won me
Oh no! 'Twas the the truth in her eye ever beaming
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading
And Mary all smiling was listening to me
The moon through the valley her pale rays was shedding
When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.
Though lovely and fair as the rose of the summer
Yet, 'twas not her beauty alone that won me
Oh no! 'Twas the the truth in her eye ever beaming
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
The Ambleside Online Folk Song Rotation for October 2013 is a Yorkshire Anthem entitled
ON ILKLEY MOOR BAHT 'AT
I found a lovely YouTube video of this song, but it strays from traditional midway, so I'll post another version at the bottom of this post. In the middle I will post the words. If you want to be able to sing along with the video with your kids you should print out the words so the video can be full screen.
Wheear 'as ta bin sin ah saw thee,
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at?!
Wheear 'as ta bin sin ah saw thee?
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at?!
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at?!
Tha's been a cooartin' Mary Jane
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Tha's been a cooartin' Mary Jane|
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Tha's bahn t'catch thi deeath o'cowd
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Tha's bahn t'catch thi deeath o'cowd
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then we shall ha' to bury thee
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then we shall ha' to bury thee
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then t'worms 'll cum and eat thee oop
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then t'worms 'll cum and eat thee oop
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then ducks 'll cum and eat oop t'worms
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then ducks 'll cum and eat oop t'worms
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then we shall go an' ate oop ducks
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then we shall go an' ate oop ducks
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then we shall all 'ave etten thee
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Then we shall all 'ave etten thee
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
That's wheer we get us oahn back
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
That's wheer we get us oahn back
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
On Ilkla Moor baht 'at
Now, I don't speak Yorkshire, and I don't even pretend to on TV, but here is an effort at partial translation:
The basic drift that I get, other than not knowing where (or what moor) Ilka Moor is... The main lines are:
Where have you been since I saw thee on Ilkla Moor without a hat?
Thou's been a'courtin Mary Jane on Ilkla Moor without a hat.
Thou's bound to catch thy death of cold on Ilkla Moor without a hat.
Then we'll have to bury thee on Ilkla Moor without a hat.
Then worms will come and eat thee up on Ilkla Moor without a hat.
Then ducks will come to eat up the worms on Ilkla Moor without a hat.
Then we shall go and eat up ducks on Ilkla Moor without a hat.
Then shall we all have eaten thee on Ilkla Moor without a hat.
That's where we get our own back on Ilkla Moor without a hat. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What a funny song! For most of our kids I guess we just want to keep it in Yorkshire... the less they understand the better until they get older! ::heh:: ::heh:: But make sure they wear their hat when they go out...!
(Be careful clicking some of the above links with earbuds in -- they can open quite loud.)
I already did not do September. I'd never heard it before; don't think I care if I catch up with it, but I might play it for my son once. Here is a video link, with the words below the video picture:
Chorus
Ah-di-do, ah-di-do-da-day
Ah-di-do, ah-di-day-dee
He whistled and he sang 'til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady.
She left her father's castle gate
Left her own true lover
She left her servants and her estates
To follow the gypsy rover.
Her father saddled his fastest steed
And roamed the valleys all over
He searched for his daughter at great speed
And the whistlin' gypsy rover.
He came at last to a mansion fine
Down by the river Clady
And there was music, and there was wine
For the gypsy and his lady.
He's no gypsy, my Father, she said,
But Lord of these lands all over
And I will stay 'til my dyin' day
With my whistlin' gypsy rover. I contemplated skipping the November song, "I's the B'y" (I am the boy), but listening/watching the youtube video, I really like it!
I wanted to dislike it. I wanted to tell myself that, since I didn't do the folk song that was scheduled for November 2011 I could just do that, but I like I's the B'y, so I'll have to figure out a way to work in The Lion Sleeps Tonight:
I'll try to select and post more YouTube video choices for the rest of the selections at a later time.
When muir-men win their hay,
The doughty Douglas bound him ride,
Tae England tae catch a prey,
He’s ta’en the Gordons and the Graemes,
And the Lindsays light and gai,
But the Jardines wad not wi’ him ride,
And they rue it tae this day.
And part o’ Banbrough shire,
The Otter dale he’s burnt it hale,
And set it a’ on fire,
And he raed up tae Newcastle,
And rode it roond aboot,
Saying, “whar’s the laird o’ this castle,
And whar’s the lady o’t?”
And O but he spak hie,
“I am the lord o’ this castle,
My wife’s the lady gaye.
If thou’rt the lord o’ this castle,
Sae weel it pleases me,
For ere I cross the Border fells,
The tane o’ us shall die.”
Upon the bank sae bruin,
They lichted high on Otterburn,
And threw their broadswords doon,
But up there spoke a bonnie boy,
Before the break o’ dawn,
Saying, “Wake ye now my good lord sir,
Lord Percy’s near at hand”.
I wat he was fu’ fain,
They swak’d swords and sair they swat,
And blood ran doon between,
But Percy wi’ his guid braid sword,
That could sae sharply wound,
Has wounded Douglas on the brow,
Till he fell tae the ground.
And said, "Run speedilie,
And fetch my ain dear sister's son,
Sir Hugh Montgomery."
"My nephew good," the Douglas said,
"What recks the death of ane!
Last night I dreamed a dreary dream,
And I ken the day's thy ain."
"My wound is deep; I fain would sleep;
Take thou the vanguard of the three,
And hide me by the braken-bush,
That grows on yonder lilye lee."
"O bury me by the braken-bush,
Beneath the blooming brier;
Let never a living mortal ken
That ere a kindly Scot lies here."
Wi the saut tear in his ee;
He hid him in the braken-bush,
That his merrie men might not see.
The moon was clear, the day drew near,
The spears in flinders flew,
But mony a gallant Englishman
Ere day the Scotsmen slew.
The Gordons good, in English blood
They steepd their hose and shoon;
The Lindsays flew like fire about,
Till all the fray was done.
The Percy and Montgomery met,
That either of other were fain ;
They swapped* swords, and they twa swat,
And aye the blood ran down between.
"Now yield thee, yield thee, Percy," he said,
"Or else I vow I'll lay thee low!"
"To whom must I yield," quoth Earl Percy,
"Now that I see it must be so?"
"Thou shalt not yield to lord nor loun,"
Nor shalt thou yield to me;
But yield to the braken-bush,
That grows upon yon lilye lee. "
Nor yet will I yield to a brier;
But I would yield to Earl Douglas,
Or Sir Hugh Montgomery, if he were here."
As soon as he knew it was Montgomery,
He struck his sword's point in the gronde;
The Montgomery was a courteous knight,
And quickly took him by the honde.
This deed was done at the Otterbourne,
About the breaking of the day;
Earl Douglas was buried at the braken-bush,
And the Percy led captive away.