House Carpenter- Tate (NC) 1962 Foss; Bronson 111 and 132.
[From LC/AAFS, rec. No. 12,006(A26). George Foss collected two versions from Dan Tate, the second has a full text, see Bronson TTCB III, 1966; no. 111 and 132. Dan Tate was born in Carroll County, Virginia in the year 1896. He was first recorded by Collins in 1941. See Yates articles: http://www.bluegrassmessengers.com/daniel-wyatt-tate-singer-from-fancy-gap--yates.aspx
R. Matteson 2013]
"House Carpenter"- Sung by Dan Tate (66). with banjo, Fancy Gap, NC, July 10, 1962. Collected by George Foss. m M (inflected VII)
1. "Well met, well met, my old true love,"
"Well met, well met," said she.
"For seven long years I've been sailing on the ocean
And it's all for the love of thee."
2. "For I could have married a king's daughter dear
Being she would have married me,
But I refused her crown of gold,
It was all for the love of thee."
3. If you could have married the king's daughter dear,
I am sure you're all to blame,
For now I am married to a house carpenter,
I believe he's a fine young man.
4. Forsake, forsake your house carpenter
And come along with me.
I'll take you away where the grass grows green
On the banks of sweet Otee. [Italy?]
5. O what shall I do with my house carpenter,
Likewise my tender babe?
Go lay it down in a soft bed of down,
And bid it go to sleep.
6. She took her babe all in her arm,
And kisses gave it three.
Lie there, lie there, my sweet little babe,
Keep your papa company.
7. O they hadn't been on board but about two weeks,
I'm sure that it was not three,
Till she began to weep and to mourn,
And she wept most bitterly.
8. Say, are you weeping for my sake,
Or either for my store?
Or are you a-weeping for your house carpenter
That you left on the other shore?
9. No, I'm not weeping for Your sake
Or either for your store,
I'm weeping for my sweet little babe
Whose face I shall see no more.
10. What banks, what banks, my old true love?
They're as white as any snow,
'Tis the banks of Heaven, my old true love,
Where all Christian people go.
11. What banks, what banks, my old true love?
They're as black as any crow,
'Tis the banks of Hell, my old true love,
Where both you and I must go.
12. O they hadn't been on board but about three weeks,
I'm sure that it was not four,
Till there sprang a leak in the bottom of the ship
And it sank to rise no more.