Sweet Bann Water- V. Crawford (Antrim) 1937 Henry
[From Sam Henry's Songs of the People by Gale Huntington, ‎Lani Herrmann- 2010. 'The Sweet Bann Water' or 'The Night Visiting Song' as transcribed by Sam Henry from Valentine Crawford in the Commercial Hotel, Bushmills (Antrim) and published in September 1937, is a pivotal version of Drowsy Sleeper that combines The Lover's Ghost (Child 248) with the Scottish "I Will Put my Ship in Order." The opening stanzas (1-5) are derived from "Lover's Ghost" while the remaining stanzas are from "I Will Put my Ship."
Several similar traditional ballads have been collected in Ireland in the 1960s-70s.
R. Matteson 2016]
Sweet Bann Water- sung by Valentine Crawford collected in the Commercial Hotel, Bushmills, Antrim in September, 1937 by Sam Henry.
I must away, I'll no longer tarry,
The sweet Bann water I mean to cross,
And over the mountains I'll roam with pleasure,
And spend one night with my own wee lass.
If the night was dark as a dungeon
And not a star ever to appear,
I would be guided without a stumble
To that sweet arbour where lies my dear.
When I came to my true love's window,
I kneel-ed low on a marble stone,
And through a pane I did whisper slowly,
Saying, 'Darling, darling, are you at home?'
She raised her head from her downy pillow,
And covered was her snow-white breast,
Saying, 'Who is that, that is at my window
Disturbing me quite of my night's rest?
' 'It is I, it is I, your poor wounded lover,
So rise up, darling, and let me in,
For I am tired of my long journey,
Besides I'm wet, love, into the skin.'
When this long night was almost ended
And drawing nigh to the break of day,
She says, 'My darling, the cocks are crowing,
It's now full time you were going away.'
'Well , you may go , love , and ask your father
If he be willing you my bride may be,
And what he says, love, come back and tell me,
For this is the last night I'll trouble thee.'
'I need not go, love, to ask my father
For he is lying in his bed of ease
And in his hand he does hold a letter
Which leadeth much on to your dispraise.'
'Well, you may go, love, and ask your mother
If she be willing you my bride will be
And what she says, love, come back and tell me,
For this is the last night I'll trouble thee.'
'I need not go, love, to ask my mother,
For to love's silence she won't give ear,
But away, away, and court some other
That will consent without a fear.'
For after night, love, there comes a morning,
And after morning comes a new day,
And after one false love comes another,
It's hard to hold them that must sway.