Sailing Trade- Mary Guthrie (Aber) 1876 Christie
[From Traditional Ballad Airs: Volume 1 edited by William Christie, 1876. His notes follow. The tune is taken from Christie's mother, Mary nee Guthrie and another traditional version. The text may be from print- Christie doesn't say. The earliest extant Scottish version, my B was printed about 1800 in Edinburgh and has 10 stanzas. Christie's 8 stanzas show considerable variation from the Morren broadside.
R. Matteson 2017]
This Air was arranged from the singing of the Editor‘s mother [Mary Guthrie] , and from another copy got in Banffshire. The Ballad was arranged by the Editor from the recitation of his mother. and from the recitation of the person from whom the other copy of the Air was noted. In the four lines commencing, "If thousand thousands were in a room'.’ is the same idea as in "The Prickly Rose’) p. 227. The Air was calm sung to a traditional Ballad "My love was lost on the Itumillies" The Itumillies was lost in Feb. 1760. (See Hume and Smollet‘s History, p. 545.)
"The Sailing Trade"
The sailing trade is a weary life,
It's 'reft me of my heart's delight,
And left me here in tears to mourn,
Still waiting for my love's return.
The blackbird whistles on the lea,
And flies about from tree to tree;
The nightingale on bush doth sing,
To welcome my love in the spring.
If thousand thousands were in a room.
My love would carry the brightest bloom;
He surely is a chosen one,
I shall have him, or else have none.
"Oh! father dear, build me a boat,
That on the ocean I may float;
And at every ship that I pass by,
I will enquire for my sailor boy."
At the first ship that she did meet,
She did enquire for her Willie sweet;
They told her that just the other day,
They had lost a brave young sailor boy.
Like one distracted this fair maid ran
For pen and paper to write a song:
At every word she dropp'd a tear,
And at every line she cried, "Willie dear!"
"The grass doth grow on every lea,
The leaves doth fall from every tree,
How happy are they who have lov'd none!
Oh! my true love is now dead and gone!"
She wrung her hands, and she tore her hair,
She went like one into despair;
And overboard would herself have thrown;
For she cried, "Can I live since Willie's gone!"