Lord Gregory- Cronin (Ireland) 1952 Ennis
THE LASS OF LOCH ROYAL
(LORD GREGORY)
Sung by Mrs. Elizabeth Cronin, B allyvourney, Co. Cork. August, 1952.
Recorded and transcribed by Seamus Ennis.
(R.P.L. 18759)
1. I am a king's daughter that strayed from Cappoquin
In search of Lord Gregory, may God I'll find him
The rain beats at my yellow locks and the dew wets me still
The babe is cold in my arms, Lord Gregory let me in.
2. Lord Gregory is not here, and as full can be seen,
He is gone to bonny Scotland to bring home his new queen.
Leave now those windows and likewise this hall,
For it's deep in the sea you should hide your downfall.
3. Who'll shoe my babe's little feet, who'll put gloves on her hand,
And who'll tie my babe's middle with a long and green band?
Who'll comb my babe's yellow locks with an ivory comb,
And who'll be my babe's father till Lord Gregory comes home?
4. I'll shoe your babe's little feet, I'll put gloves on her hand,
And I'll tie your babe's middle with a long and green band;
I'll comb your babe's yellow locks with an ivory comb,
And I'll be your babe's father till Lord Gregory comes home.
5. Leave now those windows and likewise this hall,
For it's deep in the sea you should hide your downfall.
6. Do you remember, Lord Gregory, that night in Cappoquin,
When we both changed pocket handkerchiefs, and that against my will?
For yours was pure linen, love, and mine was coarse cloth,
Yours cost one guinea, love, and mine but one groat.
7. Leave now, etc.
8. Do you remember, Lord Gregory, that night in Cappoquin,
We both changed rings off our fingers, and that against my will?
For yours was pure silver, love, and mine was block tin,
Yours cost twelve guineas, love, and mine but one cent.
9. Leave now, etc.
10. Do you remember, Lord Gregory, that night in my father's hal,
When you stole away my fond heart, and that was worse than all?
11. Leave now, etc.
12. My curse on you, mether, and my curse it be sore,
I dreamt the Lass of Orms came rapping to my door.
Lie down, you foolish son, ah, lie down and sleep,
For 'tis long ago her weary locks are waving on the deep.
13. Come saddle me the(m) black horse, the(m) brown or the bay,
Come saddle me the(m) best horse in my stable this day.
I'll range over valleys and o'er mountains alway,
Till I find the Lass of Orms, and I lie by her side.
MRS. ELIZABETH CRONIN
In the early seventies, widow of a schoolmaster. Born in Muskerry, she has lived all her life in this area of Co. Cork. Five sons of hers survive, all given to songs and music. Mrs. Cronin is a country farm housewife. She reads and speaks both Gaelic and English, and is a noted authority on the Gaelic dialect of the area. Her repertoire is representative of the whole folk song and and folklore tradition of her lifetime and many generations before: one of the greatest repositories we have found. (Seamus Ennis).