S. (Sabine) Baring-Gould

Songs of the West


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wandered o'er the country wide

       The sheep she could not find;

       And many times she did upbraid

       Young Johnny in her mind.

       She sought in leafy forest green

       She sought them low and high,

       And 'twas down in yonder valley, love,

       Where the water glideth by.

      4

      "Oh silly maid," young Johnny said,

       "Alone why did you seek?"

       Her heart was full of anger, and

       The flush was in her cheek.

       "Where one alone availeth not,

       There two your sheep may spie,

       And 'tis down in yonder valley, love,

       Where the water glideth by."

      5

      vThen lo! they both forgot their quest,

       They found what neither sought,

       Two loving hearts long kept apart

       Together now were brought.

       He found the words he long had lacked,

       He found and held her eye;

       And 'twas down in yonder valley, love,

       Where the water glideth by.

      67

      Now married were this loving pair,

       And joined in holy band,

       No more they go a seeking sheep,

       Together hand in hand.

       Around her feet play children sweet,

       Beneath the summer sky,

       And 'tis down in yonder valley, love,

       Where the water glideth by.

      No 12 THE MILLER AND HIS SONS

       Table of Contents

      C.J.S.

music

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      1

      There was a miller, as you shall hear,

       Long time he lived in Devonshire,

       He was took sick and deadly ill,

       And had no time to write his will!

       He was took sick and deadly ill,

       And had no time to write his will.

      2

      So he call'd up his eldest son,

       Said he, "My glass is almost run.

       If I to thee my mill shall give,

       Tell me what toll thou'lt take to live?"

      3

      "Father," said he, "My name is Jack,

       From every bushel I'll take a peck.

       From every grist that I do grind,

       That I may thus good living find."

      4

      "Thou art a fool," the old man said,

       "Thou hast not half acquired thy trade.

       My mill to thee I ne'er will give

       For by such toll no man can live."

      5

      Then he call'd up his second son,

       Said he, "My glass is almost run.

       If I to thee my mill shall make,

       Tell me what toll to live thou'lt take?"

      6

      "Father you know my name is Ralph,

       From every bushel I'll take a half

       From every grist that I do grind,

       That I may thus a living find."

      7

      "Thou art a fool," the old man said;

       "Thou hast not half acquired thy trade.

       My mill to thee I will not give,

       For by such toll no man may live."

      8

      Then he call'd up his youngest son,

       Says he, "My glass is almost run.

       If I to thee my mill shall make

       Tell me what toll, to live, thou'lt take?"

      9

      "Father I am your youngest boy.

       In taking toll is all my joy.

       Before I would good living lack,

       I'd take the whole—forswear the sack."

      10

      "Thou art the boy," the old man said,

       "For thou hast full acquired the trade.

       The mill is thine," the old man cried,

       He laugh'd, gave up the ghost, and died.

      No 13 ORMOND THE BRAVE

       Table of Contents

      C.J.S.

music

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      1

      I am Ormond the brave, did ye never hear of me?

       Who lately was driven from my own country.

       They tried me, condemned me, they plundered my estate,

       For being so loyal to Queen Anne the Great,

       Crying, O! I am Ormond, you know.

      2

      O to vict'ry I led, and I vanquished every foe,

       Some do call me James Butler, I'm Ormond, you know,

       I am Queen Anne's darling, and old England's delight,

       A friend to the Church, in Fanatic's despite,

       Crying, O! I am Ormond, you know.

      3

      Then awake Devon dogs, and arise you Cornish cats,

       And follow me a chasing the Hanoverian rats,

       They shall fly from the country, we'll guard the British throne,

       Have no German electors with a king, sirs, of our own.

       Crying, O! I am Ormond, you know.

      4

      O I wronged not my country as Scottish peers do,

       Nor my soldiers defrauded, of that which is their due.

       All such deeds I do abhor, by the powers that are above,

       I've bequeath'd all my fortune to the country I love.

       Crying, O! I am Ormond, you know.

      No 14 SIR JOHN BARLEYCORN

       Table of Contents

      C.J.S.