GUEST,^&* - great references, thanks! Since Roger was already dead in 1824 (the latest date for the Wm Armstrong Liverpool version), perhaps the Roger mentioned in the 1848 report was a relative. The Roud Index doesn't list a single version collected from oral tradition. Interesting that it turned up on the NY/PA border. Here's my latest crack at Barhight's lyrics, using the various broadside versions to clear up some of the previous question marks: ROGER O'HARE – as sung by Ezra "Fuzzy" Barhight In my first proceedings I took roguish ways, I then took to rambling my mind for to please You will hear how it ended I vow & declare, and what was the end of poor Roger O'Hare There was a rich baker lived in Newry town, and the pride of his shop I could always pull down So he went to his neighbors and he bid them beware, to keep bolted doors against Roger O'Hare So early next morning there rose a great row, the guards they were sent for and quick set about I heard they were coming but I didn't much care, that very same night they took Roger O'Hare Then to Newry guardhouse they marched me straight, and little they thought how I would them deceive One said to the other "he'll ramble no more", that very same night Newry Lake I sailed o'er When I got safe over I made no delay, for to rob a rich farmer I straight took my way But I being quite tipsy as I entered the room, to tell you the truth I came near to my doom Well the farmer he lie asleep on his bed, he had a strong guard that night at his head Which lay hold of me as I entered the room, says they by the hoker "here's Roger again" Then to Newry guardhouse again I was sent, for to hang the next day it was their intent But I heard of the news, (put me in a fright, I broke Newry guardhouse that very same night) Then I fell in love with Jane Sharky by name, that is the worst action I own to my fame That innocent girl I stole her away, on purpose her innocent heart to betray Her parents pursued me in the town of Betwinn, surrounded I was and was taken again And they marched me to prison without more delay, & I broke the jail door and let twelve more away And then from Old England back home I did steer, for to stay in that place I did much in fear And rather than beg I done what was worse, to get myself money I stole a fine horse It was in old Ireland the horse was stolen, and eighty gold guineas for him in my hand But there was a rich stage that I put him in, that horse was found out I was taken again Poor Roger'd been taken and always got free, but now it came his turn to march to the tree His dumb foolish action he then did declare, and that is the end of poor Roger O'Hare
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