The Bailie of Hazling Town- Pace (KY) Sharp B
[My title. From English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians I, p. 219; Sharp & Campbell; 1932, Karpeles editor, see notes that follow.
R. Matteson 2015]
No. 30. The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington.
Texts without tunes :—Child's English and Scottish Popular Ballads, No. 105, A.
Williams's Folk Songs of the Upper Thames, p. 174. Journal of American Folk-Lore,
xxx. 321; xxxix. 106. British Ballads from Maine, p. 225.
Texts with tunes :—Journal of the Folk-Song Society, i. 125 and 209; vii. 34.
Chappel's Popular Music of the Olden Times, i. 203. Gavin Greig's Last Leaves,
No, 41. Rimbault's Musical Illustrations of Bishop Percy's Reliques, p. 100.
Sussex Songs, p. 10. Folk-Songs of England, v. 41. C. Sharp's English Folk Songs
(Selected Edition), ii. 35. Davis's Traditional Ballads of Virginia, pp. 383 and 585,
No. 30 The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington
B. The Bailie of Hazling Town - Sung by MRS. ELIZA PACE at Hyden, Leslie Co., Ky., Oct. 3, 1917
Hexatonic (no 7th).
1. There was a youth and a come ly youth,
One of the squire's sons.
He court ed the bailie's youngest daughter,
The bailie of Haz-ling Town, Town,
The bailie of Hazling Town.
2 And when his old father come for to know
How foolish his son had inclined,
He sent him away to the London city,
And a prencess[1] he did bind.
3 There to read and study law,
Leave his true love behind.
Never, never think of her always,
For she's always in my mind.
4 One day about the middle of the summer,
The girls went out to play;
All but the Bailie's youngest daughter,
So cunningly stole away.
5 She travelled on one livelong year,
One livelong year and a day;
Whom did she meet but her own true love
A-riding there away.
6 Where are you from, my pretty little Miss?
Where are you from, I pray ?
I am just from the Hazling city
Where many a sport's been played.
7 If you are just from Hazling city,
Surely you must know
What's become of Bailie's youngest daughter.
She's dead long ago.
8 If she is dead long ago,
Her body lies so low.
You have met with her milk-white steed,
Her saddle and her bridle and her bow.
9 Stay, kind sir, she is not dead,
She is yet alive,
Standing by her true love's side,
Just ready for to be his bride.
10 Farewell sin and welcome sorrow,
0 welcome unto me;
1 have met with my own true love,
Whom I never expected to see.
1. apprentice