Lord Lovel- Benedict (NY) pre1944 Cutting
[From: Lore of and Adirondack County; Cutting, 1944. Her notes follow. I've arranged the stanza lines in conventional order.
R. Matteson 2015]
No collection of ballads seems quite complete without a copy of Lord Lovel (Child, 75). Although it is the tragic story of a lover who waited too long, the tune is such a rollicking one that few people take it seriously, least of all Mrs. Frank Benedict, of Lewis, who recited these verses.
LORD LOVEL- recited by Mrs. Frank Benedict, of Lewis, NY
Lord Lovel, he stood at the castle-gate,
A-combing his milky-white steed,
When along came Lady Nancibel,
A-wishing her lover God-speed, speed, speed,
A-wishing her lover God-speed.
"Where are you going?" Lady Nancy, she said,
"Where are you going?" said she.
"I'm going, my Lry-Nancibel,
Strange countrie/for to see, see, see,
Strange countries for to see."
"When will you be back?" Lady Nancy, she said,
"When will you be back?" said she.
"In a year or two or three at the most
I'll return to my Lady Nancy, -cy,-cy,
I'll return to my Lady Nancy."
He had not been gone but a year and one day,
Strange countries for to see,
When a languishing thought came into his mind;
Lady Nancibel he must go see, see, see,
Lady Nancibel he must go see.
So he rode and he rode with his milky-white sreed
Till he reached fair London town,
And there he heard St. Barney's bell
And the people all mourning around, 'round, 'round,
And the people all mourning around.
"Is anybody dead?', Lord Lovel, he said,
"Is anybody dead?" said he.
"It is the lord's daughter," the lady replied,
"Some call her Lady Nancy, -cy,-cy,
Some call her Lady Nancy."
He ordered the grave to be opened forthwith
And the shroud to be folded down,
And there he kissed her cold, clay lips,
And the tears came trickling down, down, down,
And the tears came trickling down.
Lady Nancibcl died, sarne as today,
Lord Lovel, same as tomorrow.
On her grave grew a rose,
On his'n grew a briar, -iar,-iar,
On his'n grew a briar.
They grew and they grew till they reached church-top,
And there they couldn't grow any higher,
And they both entwined in a true lovers' knot
Of which all true lovers admire, -ire,-ire,
Of which all true lovers admire.