Subject: Lyr Add: LITTLE MUSGRAVE
From:
Alan of Australia
Date: 29 May 97 - 08:43 PM
Here are the words as I sing them:
LITTLE MUSGRAVE
Child No. 81
It's four and twenty bonny boys
A-playing at the ball
Then out came the Little Musgrave
The flower among them all.
Sometimes he lost sometimes he won
Till the noontide of the day
And four and twenty fair ladies
Went out to view the play.
And some were dressed in velvet red
And some in velvet brown
Lord Barnard's wife in velvet green
Was the fairest in the town.
She cast her eye on the Little Musgrave
As bright as the summer sun
Said Musgrave to himself
This lady's heart I've won.
I have loved you fair lady
Full long and many's the day
And I have loved you Little Musgrave
But never a word did say.
I have a bower in Buckelsfordbery
It's my heart's delight
I'll take you back there with me
If you'll lie in my arms all night.
But standing by was a little foot page
From the lady's coach he ran
Although I am a lady's page
I am Lord Barnard's man.
And my Lord Barnard shall hear of this
Oh whether I sink or swim
Everywhere the bridge was broken
He'd enter the water and swim.
My Lord Barnard my Lord Barnard
You are a man of life
But Musgrave is at Buckelsfordbery
Asleep with your wedded wife.
If this be true my little foot page
This thing thou tellest me
Then all the gold in Buckelsfordbery
I gladly will give to thee.
But if this be a lie my little foot page
This thing thou tellest me
From the highest tree in Buckelsfordbery
Hanged you will be.
Go saddle me the black he said
Go saddle me the grey
But sound you not your horns he said
Lest our coming you betray.
But there was a man in Lord Barnard's train
Who loved the Little Musgrave
He blew his horn both loud and shrill
Away Musgrave away.
Methinks I hear the morning cock
Methinks I hear the jay
Methinks I hear Lord Barnard's men
And I would I were away.
Lie still lie still my Little Musgrave
And keep me from the cold
'Tis nothing but a shepherd's boy
A-bringing his sheep to fold.
Is not your hawk upon its perch
Your steed eats oats and hay
And you've a lady in your arms
And yet you go away.
So he turned him right and round about
And they fell fast asleep
When he awoke Lord Barnard's men
Were standing at their feet.
How do you like my bed he said
How do you like my sheet
And how do you like my fair lady
That lies in your arms asleep.
'Tis well I like your bed he said
'Tis well I like your sheet
'Tis better I like the fair lady
That lies in my arms asleep.
Rise up rise up my Little Musgrave
And put thy clothing on
It'll never be said in fair England
I slew a naked man.
There are two long swords by my side
Full dear they cost my purse
But you shall have the better of them
And I will have the worse.
And the first stroke that Little Musgrave struck
It hurt Lord Barnard sore
And the first stroke that Lord Barnard struck
Little Musgrave ne'er struck more.
Then up spoke the lady fair
From the bed whereon she lay
Although you're dead my Little Musgrave
Still for you I'll pray.
How do you like his cheeks lady
How do you like his chin
And how do you like his dead body
Now there's no life within.
It's well I like his cheeks she said
It's well I like his chin
It's better I like his dead body
Than all your kith and kin.
He's taken out his long long sword
To strike the mortal blow
Through and through the lady's heart
The cold steel it did go.
A grave a grave Lord Barnard cries
To put these lovers in
But bury my lady on the upper hand
For she came from noble kin.
For I have slain the finest knight
That ever rode a steed
And I have slain the fairest lady
That ever did a woman's deed.
Cheers,
Alan
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