Lyr Req: Lord Gordon's Kitchen Boy (#252, Paterson

Subject: Lyr Req: LORD GORDON'S KITCHEN BOY (#252, Paterson
From: Roberto
Date: 11 Sep 05 - 03:23 AM

It is Child #252 (The Kitchie-Boy).
Lord Gordon's Kitchen Boy
Rod Paterson, Up-To-Date, 2 albums on 1 cd (Two Hats, 1987; Smiling Waved Goodbye*, 1988), Greentrax CDTRAX 197.

I miss words in two lines; I think I've got wrong words in another couple of lines (or more). Please, help me with this transcription.
Thank you. R

No information on Rod Paterson's sources for this ballad on the cd.

Lord Gordon had but ae daughter
A maid o birth and fame
She lo'ed her faither's kitchen-boy
The greater was her shame

She could neer her true-love see
Nor with him could she talk
In fields where she was wont to go
Nor towns whaur she did walk

But it fell oot upon a day
Lord Gordon being from hame
She's called upon the kitchen boy
It's Willie was his name

Come sit ye doon by me - she says
Come sit ye doon by me
There is nae lord in a' the north
That I can love like thee

But the master-cook will on me call
And he must answered be
If they find me in your bower
The warst will go with thee

Oh, have no fear, my Willie dear
There's gowd and white monie
We'll build to you a bonnie ship
And set it on the sea

Silk shall be your sailing-clothes
Gold yellow in your hair
White as milk will be your skin
Your body neat and fair

Then she has taen a gay gold ring
And pit his finger through
To mind you, Willie, on the maid
That laid her love on you

And she has built a bonny ship
And set it tae the sea
Wi seven score o brisk young men
To bear him companie

And he is tae the bonny ship
And he's awa' to sea
An' she o'er the castle-wa
The saut tear in her ee

He had not sailed a week, a week
A week but barely three
When for (?) and to the coast of Spain
The wind it blowed them free

A lady on the castle-wa
Beheld baith dale and down
And she has spied the bonny ship
Come sailing to the town

Come here, come here, my maries a'
Ye see not what I see
For here I see the brawest ship
That ever sailed the sea

Busk and busk, my maries a'
Its's busk and mak' ye fine
While I must go doon to the shore
And mak' our captain mine

Will you come up to my castle
To my table so fine?
And you shall eat the gude white bread
And drink the claret wine

I thank you for your wine, lady
I thank you for your bread
But seven score o hungry men
Are ... to be fed

Then she's taen oot a gay gold ring
And pit his finger through
To mind you on the Spanish maid
That laid her love on you

The ring that's on my mid-finger
Is dearer far to me
Tho' yours were o the beaten gold
And mine the metal free

He had not sailed a week, a week
A week but barely three
When far and to the Scottish coast
The wind it blowed them free

Lord Gordon on the castle-wa
Beheld baith dale and down
And there he spied the bonny ship
Come sailing to the town

Come here, come here, my daughter dear
Ye see no what I see
Here I see the brawest ship
That ever sailed the sea

It's busk, O busk, my daughter dear
It's busk, and mak' ye fine
While I must go doon to the shore
Our captain to entwine (?)

Will you come up to my castle
To my table so fine?
And you shall eat the gude white bread
And drink the claret wine

It's I'll come up to yoor castle
To yoor table so fine
For I would gie my bonny ship
For yoor fair daughter mine

He's drawn the mask doon oer his face
And entered in the ha
And there he spied his ain true love
The flooer among them a

He's taen her in his arms
And he's held her courteously -
O no, kind sir, this winna dae
My love's across the sea

Willie's taen the gay gold ring
And pit her finger through
Saya – Tak' you this, my lady fair
In sign of love to you

O got ye 't on the sea sailing?
Or got ye 't on the strand?
Or got ye 't on the coast of Spain,
Upon a dead man's hand?

Fine silk it was his sailing-clothes
Gold yellow in his hair
It wad hae made a hale heart brak
To see him lying there

In grief she tore her mantle
In sorrow tore her hair
For since I've lost my ain true-love
I'll never will love mair

He's taen the mask frae off his face
....her view
And straight she's taen the gay gold ring
And pit his finger through

Lord Gordon's on the catle-wa
The wine-glass in his hand
He never thought his kitchen-boy
Was heir to a' his land

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: rod paterson's lord gordon's kitchen boy
From: GUEST,folkiefrank
Date: 11 Sep 05 - 11:03 AM

Roberto, this is the best I can make of the parts in question.

He had not sailed a week, a week
A week but barely three
When far unto the coast of Spain
The wind did blow them free


I thank you for your wine, lady
I thank you for your bread
But seven score o hungry men
Are ettlin' to be fed   (ettlin' = anxious, fretful)

He had not sailed a week, a week
A week but barely three
When far unto the Scottish coast
The wind it blowed them free


He's taen the mask frae off his face
Turned him to her view
And straight she's taen the gay gold ring
And pit his finger through

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: rod paterson's lord gordon's kitchen boy
From: Roberto
Date: 11 Sep 05 - 11:31 AM

Yes, folkiefrank, your lines are Ok. Thank you. R

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: rod paterson's lord gordon's kitchen
From: Susanne (skw)
Date: 11 Sep 05 - 06:03 PM

[1988:] This is an abbreviation of Earl Richard's Daughter (Buchan's "Ancient Ballads and Songs"), the title changed to avoid identification with [the ballad Earl Richard]. (Notes Rod Paterson, 'Smiling Waved Goodbye')

That info might make it, not The Kitchie Boy but Child #102 - Willie and Earl Richard's Daughter, particularly as the kitchen-boy is called Willie in Rod's version. I haven't checked the ballads, though, and can't say for sure.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: rod paterson's lord gordon's kitchen boy
From: Malcolm Douglas
Date: 11 Sep 05 - 06:47 PM

It's Child 252, but more than just an abbreviation of Peter Buchan's set; some re-writing also. I'd wondered how Lord Gordon had wandered into the song!