Mr. Scanner copied this from the liner notes from Jean Redpath's Leaving the Land: A Collection of Songs, Scottish and Western. This album is just about perfect. The only complaint I have is that it has only 12 cuts.
Thank you, Mr. Scanner.
-Joe Offer-

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MAGGIE
(as sung by Jean Redpath)

The violets were scenting the woods, Maggie
Their perfume was soft on the breeze
When I first said loved only you, Maggie
And you said you loved only me
The chestnut bloomed green through the glades, Maggie
A robin sang loud from a tree
When I first said I loved only you, Maggie
And you said you loved only me.

A golden row of daffodils shone, Maggie
And danced with the leaves on the lea
When I first said I loved only you, Maggie
And you said you loved only me
The birds in the trees sang a song, Maggie
Of happier days yet to be
When I first said I loved only you, Maggie
And you said you loved only me.

I promised that I'd come again, Maggie
And happy forever we'd be
When I first said I loved only you, Maggie
And you said you loved only me.
But the ocean proved wider than miles, Maggie
A distance our hearts could not foresee
When I first said I loved only you, Maggie
And you said you loved only me.

Our dreams they never came true, Maggie
Our fond hopes were never meant to be
When I first said I loved only you, Maggie
And you said you loved only me.^^^

Redpath's comments:

"When you and I were young, Maggie" must surely be one of the best known of its nineteenth century nostalgic genre. The melody has the immediate appeal and comfort of an old slipper... at least to those of us who have acquired a proper appreciation of old slippers!

Maggie Clark was born on July 14, 1841 near Glenbrook Township, above Hamilton, Ontario. She was courted by George Johnson, a poetic 21-year old who had come to teach at the local school after graduating from the University of Toronto. Soon the couple were engaged but Maggie contracted tuberculosis and it was during one of her bouts of illness that George wrote the familiar text. In October 1864 they were married: Maggie died the following year. George asked a friend in Detroit, J.C. Butterfield, to set the poem to music, and an evergreen was born.

I think I picked up most of the text I use here from the singing of Maura O'Connell of De Danaan (and they quote their version as coming from the John McCormack songbook); the rest is mine.
^^^