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Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys |
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Subject: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: GUEST,rinceseit Date: 12 Jun 09 - 09:28 AM I am looking for the full lyrics to an old song with the following incomplete lyrics: If I marry a tall one The boys will laugh at me and if I marry a nice wee girl The merrier we will be. And if I marry a tawny, She be sure to knock me down. So I'll spend my days in single life. Drink round me boys, drink round. If anyone remembers this song and can help me with the lyrics, I'd be really appreciative! |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: maeve Date: 12 Jun 09 - 09:54 AM GUEST,rinceseit Gordon Bok recorded it as the "Bachelor's Song, trad., his source notes list John Nicholson, Jordan Mountain Mountain, near Sussex, New Brunswick as singer. It's on his "Dear to Our Island" album, 2001. I'm on my way out the door. Try Gordon's website www.gordonbok.com. When I have more time I can help further. Regards, maeve |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: GUEST,Shaneo Date: 12 Jun 09 - 04:31 PM Is this the song you want ? From The Session 1) Well here is to the ploughboy who toils beneath the sun his ploughshare on his shoulder he sings to everyone He ploughs his furrows gaily whatever the weather might be And he drinks his beer daily a hearty drinker he.
2) And here is to the shepherd who tends his flocks by day
3) Here is to the faggot cutter who works at home like me
4) I owe no debts, I pay no frets, no troubles to my mind
5) For if I should marry a nice-looking girl my friends would me deceive
6) Well here is to...., the founder of the feast |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: maeve Date: 12 Jun 09 - 05:09 PM That looks very close to the version I was thinking of, GUEST,Shaneo . maeve |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: GUEST Date: 13 Jun 09 - 11:19 AM I'm not sure that it is the song I was looking for. This was song back in the 40's and 50's by an elderly man in Donegal and was more of a "comallya" song. But thanks for those lyrics...I'll pass them along. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: Grampus Date: 13 Jun 09 - 12:41 PM Or how about this from the singing of the late Bill Price: Drinks RoundDrinks round me boys, drinks round me boys Until it comes to me For the longer that we sit and drink The merrier we shall be Here's to the ploughman, who toils beneath the sun His ploughshare to his shoulder, he sings to everyone He ploughs his furrows daily, whatever the weather might be He drinks his beer daily, a hearty drinker he Drinks round me boys......etc Here's to the shepheard, who tends his flocks by day His shepheard dog beside him, he leads a life quite gay At evening into the ale house, to drink his fill he goes His shepheard dog beside him, the beer it freely flows Drinks round me boys......etc Here's to the faggot cutter, who works at home like me He starts to work at six o'clock, and quits whenever he please He cuts his wood in faggot bundles, and he lays it on the ground Then he takes a cord and binds it, drinks round me boys drinks round Drinks round me boys......etc I owe no debts, I pay no threats, no troubles to me mind I have no cradles for to rock, no babies for to mind I vow to lead me a single life, no matter where I roam Then no man in life can court my wife, when I am far from home Drinks round me boys......etc If I should marry a good looking girl, me friends would me deceive If I should marry an ugly girl, the boys would laugh at me If I should marry a big girl, she'd surely knock me down Small women are so damned cantankerous, as we have always found Drinks round me boys......etc Here's to the landlord, the founder of this feast Oh may he go right up to heaven, oh there to rest in peace You ne'er will find his equal, where 'ere we chance to roam Fill up your glass each land lass (?), this is our home from home Drinks round me boys......etc ~~~ -not too sure of the last line in the last verse. This is almost the same as shaneo's version, but not quite! G. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: JeffB Date: 13 Jun 09 - 02:39 PM There are a lot of versions of that one, sometimes with the chorus which goes :- Drink round brave boys, drink round brave boys and see you do not spill, for if you do you shall drink twice for that is our master's will. For some reason it's not in the DT, not under this title anyway. I'm sure I saw some discussion about it fairly recently. If it was on Mudcat, I an't find it. But somehow I feel it isn't the song rinceseit is looking for. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: Jeri Date: 13 Jun 09 - 05:34 PM Jeff, you're thinking of Drink, Boys, Drink. Maeve, I recognized the lyrics that GUEST,rinceseit quoted but couldn't figure out where I'd heard them. I HAVE Gordon's CD, but I'm positive I don't know where it's living at the moment. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: Jim Dixon Date: 18 Jun 09 - 09:33 PM From The Wanderings of a Pen and Pencil by F. P. Palmer, Alfred Crowquill (London: Jeremiah How, 1846), page 111: The old face of a rustic employed upon the land, which I recognised through the faint light of the wood fire, in the common kitchen, reminded me of his favourite songs—songs of harvest suppers, which are original, and one of which may entertain curious persons interested in such affairs generally. "Here's a health to the jolly wood-cutt-er, That sits at home at his ease; He does his work by the sleight of his hand, And he leaves off, when he please, For he takes a withy and he winds it, And he lays it on the ground; And round the faggots he binds it, So drink round! my boys! drink round! Drink round—my boys! drink round! for the sooner it will come to me— And the longer we stay here, brave boys! the merrier we shall be." (bis.) During the chanting of this ditty, to a very agreeable tune, the black cans are filled, and the words "drink round" are honoured by the "brave boys" in capital time, and they make the "jolly wood-cutt-er" a plausible excuse for the repetition of the song by the next in the circle; and thus, until they are wearied, or "cried down" by magisterial proclamation. |
Subject: Lyr Add: THE MISTRESS'S GOOD HEALTH From: Jim Dixon Date: 18 Jun 09 - 09:44 PM From The Suffolk Garland by James Ford (Ipswich: John Raw, 1818), page 401: THE MISTRESS'S GOOD HEALTH. Now harvest is ended, and supper is past, Here's our mistress's good health, boys, in a full flowing glass. She is a good woman, she prepar'd us good cheer, Come, all my brave boys, now, and drink off your beer. Drink, my boys, drink, till you come unto me, The longer we sit, my boys, the merrier we shall be. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: Jim Dixon Date: 18 Jun 09 - 10:00 PM From The Manchester Man by Mrs. G. Linnaeus Banks (London: James W. Allingham, 1878), page 199: This was succeeded by a prolonged cheer; and then, as one by one each man's glass was filled, ere he touched it with his lips he sang separately (with whatsoever voice he might happen to have, musical or otherwise) the following toast to proclaim the released apprentice a freeman of the trade, the chorus being taken up afresh after every repetition of the quatrain:— "Here's a health to he that's now set free, That once was a 'prentice bound, And for his sake this merriment we make, So let his health go round; Go round, go round, go round, brave boys, Until it comes to me; For the longer we sit here and drink, The merrier we shall be. Chorus—Go round, go round," &c. |
Subject: Lyr Add: SUFFOLK HARVEST-HOME SONG From: Jim Dixon Date: 18 Jun 09 - 10:12 PM From In Praise of Ale by W. T. Marchant (London: George Redway, 1888), page 191: SUFFOLK HARVEST-HOME SONG. Here's a health unto our master, the founder of the feast! I wish with all my heart and soul in heaven he may find rest. I hope all things may prosper, that ever he takes in hand; For we are all his servants, and all at his command. Drink, boys, drink, and see you do not spill, For if you do you must drink two,—it is our master's will. Now our harvest is ended, and supper is past; Here's our mistress' good health, in a full flowing glass! She is a good woman,—she prepared us good cheer; Come, all my brave boys, and drink off your beer. Drink, my boys, drink, till you come unto me, The longer we sit, my boys, the merrier we shall be. In yon greenwood there lies an old fox, Close by his den you may catch him, or no; Ten thousand to one you catch him, or no. His beard and his brush are all of one colour,— (Takes the glass and empties it off) I'm sorry, kind sir, that your glass is no fuller. 'Tis down the red lane, 'tis down the red lane! So merrily hunt the fox down the red lane. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Drink Round Me Boys From: Jim Carroll Date: 19 Jun 09 - 02:54 AM Edith Fowke collected a Canadian version entitled The Faggot Cutter from Mrs Gordon Clarke. Here it is from her 'Traditional Singers and Songs From Ontario'. It bears striking similarities to a song collected by George Gardiner in Hampshire called The Roving Bachelor which was published in one of Frank Purslow's selections from the Hammond and Gardiner manuscripts.. Jim Carroll THE FAGGOT CUTTER 1. Oh, here's to the faggot cutter; he works at home with me. He'll start to work at six o'clock; he quits whene'er he please. He cuts his wood in faggot bundles, he lays it on the ground, Then he takes his cord and binds it. Drink round, my boys, drink round. Chorus: Drink round, my boys, drink round, my boys, Until it comes to me, For the longer that you sit and drink, The merrier you will be. 2. For I owe no debts, I pay no frets, no troubles do I find. I have no cradles for to rock, no babies for to mind. I'm bound to live a single life no matter where I roam; Then no man in life will court my wife when I am far from home. 3. For if I should marry a good-looking girl, a couple we'd surely be; If I should marry a homely one, the boys would laugh at me; If I should marry a big one, she would surely knock me down, And small woman are darn contrary. Drink round, my boys, drink round. 45. THE FAGGOT CUTTER. This lively old English drinking song was apparently sung at harvest-home suppers, for it follows the pattern of other harvest healths of which the most common was "Here's a Health To Our Master." In 1893 Lucy Broadwood gave this description of the ritual: "At the harvest suppers up to some twenty years ago, while the guests were still seated at the table, a labourer carrying a jug or can of beer or cider filled a horn for every two nfe'n, one on each side of the table; as they drank, this old harvest song was sung, and the chorus repeated, until the man with the beer had reached the end of the long table, involving sometimes thirty repetitions of the first verse. After this the second verse was sung in the same manner." The only song resembling "The Faggot Cutter" that I have located is "The Woodcutter," published by Miss Broadwood's father in 1843 and reprinted in 1890. Its first stanza and refrain correspond fairly closely to Mrs. Clark's, but its second stanza is the common "Here's a health unto our master." A "Suffolk Harvest Home" noted by J. H. Bell in 1846 also has a refrain very close to that of "The Faggot Cutter" although his stanzas follow the common form. "The Faggot Cutter" probably dates from the eighteenth century when country men went into the woods to cut branches and bind them into bundles known as faggots which were sold for fuel. Before the Industrial Revolution the faggot cutter was a familiar figure in Britain. The refrain may have been added at a later date for a version sung by ninety-one-year-old Michael Leahy of Warsaw, Ontario, did not have any. He called it "I Mean to Lead a Single Life," and his second and third stanzas paralleled those of Mrs. Clark, but his first and last stanzas were different. Mrs. Clark says that her Granddad LeBarre used to sing this as he dandled her on his knee. It was also a favorite of her father, who would sing it to tease her mother. References: Broadwood: Sussex Songs, 30-31. Broadwood, 150-1. Dixon, 190-1. Record: Topic 12T140 (Mrs. Clark) . |
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