Lord Randall- Bob Coltman from Ben Moomaw Jr. (Virginia) 1954
[From Mudcat Discussion Forum, posted by Bob Coltman. I assume this is taken from Ben C. Moomaw Jr., who was an active performer and collector as well as the Secretary of the Virginia Folklore Society for many years from 1923-1970s. Here's some information from Virginia Folklore Society site online:
Two figures, who were important in the later periods of the Society's history, appeared on the scene for the first time at the 10th annual meeting on November 30, 1923, again held at the John Marshall High School in Richmond. One of these persons was Benjamin C. Moomaw, Jr. of Barber, Virginia, who was elected Secretary-Treasurer of the Society. He, along with Miss Alfreda M. Peel, "delighted the audience by singing many of the ballads that the Society [had] collected."
In spite of its new face, the reorganized Society retained the stamp of an earlier era, which was manifested to a large degree through the personalities and interests of Ben C. Moomaw, Jr., who continued as president of the Society until his death in 1978, and Fred F. Knobloch, who retired as the Society's secretary-treasurer shortly before his death in 1981.
Mr. Moomaw was a fine storyteller and singer, who insisted that the program for the meetings should be a mix of scholarly presentations alternating with ballad singing and tale telling. He also determined that Barbara Allen should be the Society's emblematic ballad and should be sung at the beginning of each meeting. The front-page obituary for Moomaw in the Covington Virginian of March 13, 1978 noted that "His hobby for Virginia Folklore brought him in contact with the Virginia Folklore Society and after serving as the state secretary for several years, he assumed the office of president of that group."
R. Matteson Jr. 2014]
LORD RANDALL- As sung by Ben Moomaw, [Jr.] Roanoke VA, 1954.
Where have you been roving, Lord Randall my son?
Where have you been roving, my beautiful one?
Oh, I have been courting, Mother, make my bed soon,
My heart's feeling bad and I want to lie down.
What did she feed you ...
Fried eels and fresh butter ...
I fear you're poisoned ...
Oh yes I am poisoned ...
What will you leave your mother? ...
My lands and my houses ...
What will you leave your brother? ...
My horn and my hounds ...
What will you leave your sweetheart? ...
Bulrushes and brimstones for to burn her bones brown,
For she is the reason of my lying down.