1. |
The Tide Full In
03:10
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Oh, 'tis sad in Dooris when the tide is low
And the green fields buried 'neath the frost and snow
And the dark night's dreary with the curlew's cry
And I'm thinkin', thinkin' of the days gone by
Oh the happy summers of the olden days
And the brown boats stealin' through the golden haze
And the cuckoo callin' from the woods within
And my love beside me and the tide full in
Was I not foolish when I let him go?
To seek his fortune where the west winds blow
If a fair wind brought him to my achin' heart
With my two arms 'round him, we would never part
But, a dear, dear letter on my fond heart lies
And its words of promise more than life I prize
For it whispers, 'Darlin', soon I'll fortune win
And return to claim you and the tide full in'
Oh the happy summers will come back once more
And the brown boats stealin' to the sunset shore
And the cuckoo callin' from the woods within
And my love beside me and the tide full in
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2. |
Dancing At Whitsun
02:46
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It's fifty long springtimes since she was a bride,
But still you may see her at each Whitsuntide
In a dress of white linen and ribbons of green,
As green as her memories of loving.
The feet that were nimble tread carefully now,
As gentle a measure as age do allow,
Through groves of white blossom, by fields of young corn,
Where once she was pledged to her true love.
The fields they are empty, the hedges grow free,
No young men to tend them, all pastures to seed.
They've gone where the forests of oak trees before
Had gone to be wasted in battle.
Down from their green farmlands and from their loved ones
Marched husbands and brothers and fathers and sons.
There's a fine roll of honour where the Maypole once stood,
And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun.
There's a row of straight houses in these latter days
Are covering the Downs where the sheep used to graze.
There's a field of red poppies, a wreath from the Queen.
And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun.
And the ladies remember at Whitsun...
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3. |
Lake Isle Of Innisfree
03:03
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I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
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4. |
Three Ravens
03:38
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There were three ravens sat on a tree,
Downe a downe, hay downe, hay downe,
They were as blacke, as black could be,
With a downe,
The one of them said to his mate,
Where shall we our breakfast take?
With a downe, derrie, derrie, derrie, downe, downe.
Downe in yonder greene field,
There lies a Knight slain under his shield,
His hounds they lie downe at his feete,
So well do they their Master keepe.
His Hawkes they flie so eagerly,
There's no fowle that dare come near he
Yonder comes a fallow Doe,
As great with yong as she might goe.
She's lifted up his bloudy head,
And kist his wounds that were so red,
She got him up upon her backe,
And carried him to earthen lake.
She buried him before the prime,
She was dead herself ere evensong time.
God send every gentleman,
Such hawkes, such hounds, and such a Leman.
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5. |
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Of all the money e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To mem'ry now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be to you all
If I had money enough to spend
And leisure time to sit awhile
There is a fair maid in this town
I own she has my heart beguiled.
Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips
I own she has my heart in thrall
Then fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all.
Of all the comrades that e'er I had
They're sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had
They'd wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I gently rise and softly call
Good night and joy be to you all
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Rosie Hodgson England, UK
Rosie is a folk singer/songwriter from Midhurst, West Sussex. Having grown up surrounded by traditional music, her voice
possesses a naturalness and maturity, bringing "a ruby-richness to lyrics new and old". (Folk Radio UK)
Rosie is currently touring with her trio, The Wilderness Yet.
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