King Orfeo
John Stickle, on Classic Ballads of Britain and Ireland, Storytelling Ballads, as included in Francis James Child's English & Scottish Popular Ballads, Volume 1, The Alan Lomax Collection, Rounder 11661-1775-2, 2000; ballad recorded 1952

Will you come in into our ha'
Scowan Earle Gray
Ye will come in into your ha'
Ffar yetta kangrer Norla

And we'll come in into your ha'
Scowan Earle Gray
And we'll come in among ye a'
Ffar yetta kangrer Norla

First he played the notes of noy
Scowan Earle Gray
And then you played the notes of joy
Ffar yetta kangrer Norla

And then you played the good old gabber reel
Scowan Earle Gray
What might ha' made a sick hairt heal
Ffar yetta kangrer Norla

***

The Maid On The Shore
John Lyons, on Irish Voices, The best of traditional singing, Topic TSCD702

There was a fair maiden who lived all alone
She lived all alone in the shore-O
And no-one could she find that would calm her sweet mind
But to wander alone on the shore, shore, shore
To wander alone on the shore-O

Now there was a brave captain who sailed a fine ship
And the weather being steady and fair-O
I shall die I shall die - this brave captain did cry
If I can't have this maid on the shore, shore, shore
If I can't have this maid on the shore-O

After many persuasions they brought her on board
And the captain set down a chair-O
He invited her down to his cabin below
Farewell sorrow, farewell now dull care-O
Farewell sorrow farewell now dull care-O

I'll sing you a song - this fair maiden did cry
And the captain was weeping for joy-O
She sang it so sweetly, so soft, so completely
She sang captain and sailors to sleep-O
She sang captain and sailors to sleep-O

Well, she robbed him of jewels and she robbed him of wealth
She robbed him of fine costly fare-O
And the captain's broadsword she used as an oar
And she rowed herself back to the shore, shore, shore
She rowed herself back to the shore-O

Now the men they were mad, yet the men they were sad
They were deeply sunk down in despair-O
To see her go away with her booty (sic) so gay
With her rings and her things and her fine fare-O
Her rings and her things and her fare-O   
         
Oh do not be sad or sunk down in despair
You should have known me before-O
I sang you to sleep and I robbed you of wealth
And again I'm a maid on the shore, shore, shore
Again I'm a maid on the shore-O

***

Some versions of the Twa Sisters, such as this:

The Bows of London
Martin Carthy, on Child:Carthy, The Carthy Chronicles (4 CD, Free Reed Revival Masters FRQCD-60), FRCD 64; The Bows of London, recorded 1991

There were two little sisters awalking alone
Hey the gay and the grinding
Two little sisters awalking alone
By the bonny bonny bows of London

And the eldest pushed her sister in
Hey the gay and the grinding
Pushed her sister into the stream
By the bonny bonny bows of London

Oh she pushed her in, she watched her drown
Hey the gay and the grinding
Watched her body floating down
By the bonny bonny bows of London

Oh she floated up, she floated down
Hey the gay and the grinding
Floats till she come to the miller's dam
By the bonny bonny bows of London

And out and come the miller's son
Hey the gay and the grinding
Father dear here swims a swan
By the bonny bonny bows of London

Oh they laid her out on the bank to die
Hey the gay and the grinding
Fool with a fiddle come ariding by
By the bonny bonny bows of London

And he took some strands of her long yellow hair
Hey the gay and the grinding
Took some strands of her long yellow hair
By the bonny bonny bows of London

And he made fiddle strings from this yellow hair
Hey the gay and the grinding
Made fiddle strings from this yellow hair
By the bonny bonny bows of London

And he made fiddle pegs from her long fingerbone
Hey the gay and the grinding
Made fiddle pegs from her long fingerbone
By the bonny bonny bows of London

And he made a fiddle out of her breastbone
Hey the gay and the grinding
Sound would pierce a heart of stone
By the bonny bonny bows of London

But the only tune that the fiddle would play
Was – Oh, the Bows of London
The only tune the fiddle would play
Was the bonny bonny bows of London

So the fool's gone away to the king's high hall
Hey the gay and the grinding
There was music dancing and all
By the bonny bonny bows of London

And he laid this fiddle all down on a stone
Hey the gay and the grinding
It played so loud it played all alone
By the bonny bonny bows of London

It sang yonder sits my father the king
Hey the gay and the grinding
Yonder sits my father the king
By the bonny bonny bows of London

Yonder sits my mother the queen
Hey the gay and the grinding
How she'll weep at my burying
By the bonny bonny bows of London

Yonder she sits my sister Anne
Hey the gay and the grinding
She who drownded me in the stream
By the bonny bonny bows of London