Young Hunting- Sotherland (NC) 1914 Sharp E
[Sharp's generic title. From English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians, I, 1917 (Sharp/Campbell) and 1932 (Sharp/Karpeles). Notes from the 1932 edition follow. This was not collected by Sharp, it was learned by Mrs. Campbell from Mrs. Sotherland in Asheville, NC.
R. Matteson 2012, 2014]
Notes from the 1932 Edition: No. 18. Young Hunting.
Texts without tunes: — Child's English and Scottish Popular Ballads, No. 68. Cox's Folk Songs of the South, p. 42 (see also further references). Journal of American Folk-Lore, XX. 252.
Texts with tunes: — Child, v. 416. Reed Smith's South Carolina Ballads, p. 107. Journal of American Folk-Lore, xviii. 295 (tune only); XXX. 289. British Ballads from Maine, p. 122. Davis's Traditional Ballads of Virginia, pp. 182 and 566. Sandburg's American Songbag, p. 64. Compare And you shall have the cheers of the cheer cold girl' of D. 4 with 'Ye shall hae cheer, an charcoal clear' in Child's version K 4. Tune H, with text of version G, is published with pianoforte accompaniment in Folk Songs of English Origin, 1st Series.
E. Young Hunting- Mrs. Sotherland (Asheville, NC) 1914 Campbell; Sharp E
free- ly give them un-to thee, thee, thee, I'll free - ly give them un-to thee.
1. Come in, come in, my own true love,
And stay all night with me;
And all those costly cards that I wear around my waist,
I'll freely give them un- to thee, thee, thee,
I'll freely give them un-to thee.
2 I won't come in, or I won't sit down,
Or stay all night with thee,
For there is another pretty girl in old Scotland
That I love more better than thee.
3 She had a sharp knife within her right hand,
She pierced him heartilee.
4 I will come down and I must come down
And stay all night with thee.
There is nary nother pretty girl in old Scotland
That I love more better than thee.
5 O live, Lord Henry, she cried,
One hour, or two, or three,
And all these costly cards I wear around my waist
I'll freely give them unto thee.
6 I can't live, nor I won't live,
One hour, nor two, nor three,
And all the costly cards you wear around your waist
Will do no good for me.
7 She tuk him by his lily-white hand,
She drug him to the well,
Which you know was cold and deep.
She says . . . .
8 Lie there, love Henry, she cried,
Till the flesh all rots off your poor bones
And all your pretty girls in old Scotland
Will mourn for your return.
9 Come down, come down, my pretty parrot bird,
And sit at my right knee,
And your cage shall be decked of the yellow beaten gold
And hung on the ivory.
10 I won't come down, nor I won't come down,
Nor sit at your right knee,
For you just now murdered your own true love,
And soon you'd murder me.
11. I wish I had in my bow in flight,
My arrow keen and sharp,
I'd pierce a lightning all through your breast
That you never should sing again.
12 If you had your bow in flight,
Your arrow keen and sharp,
My two little wings would carry me away,
Where you never would see me again.