As it turns out the transcription for this wasn't that bad - a few errors in the early verses, but mostly OK. Here's what I think is on the record. If I have time later I'll put the tune up.

Mick

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THE BLIND HARPER
(Trad arr Nic Jones)

Have you heard of the blind harper,
How he lived in Lochmaben town,
How he went down to fair England
To steal King Henry's wanton brown?

First he went unto his wife
With all the haste that go could he:
"This work" he said, "It'll never go well"
"Without the help of our good grey mare".

Says she, "Take the good grey mare
She'll run o'er hills both low and high.
Go take the halter in your hose
And leave her foal at home with me".

So he is up to England gone,
Even as fast as go could he.
When he got to Carlisle gates
Who should be there but King Henry.

"Come in, come in, you blind harper,
And of your music let me hear".
But up and says the blind harper,
"I'd rather have a stable for my mare".

The king he looks over his left shoulder
And he says unto his stable groom,
"Go take the poor blind harper's mare
And put her beside me wanton brown".

Then he's harped and then he's sang
'Till he played them all so sound asleep,
And quietly he took off his shoes
And down the stairs he did creep.

And straight to the stable door he goes
With a tread as light as light could be,
And when he opened and went in
There he found thirty steeds and three.

And he took a halter from his hose
And from his purpose he did not fail.
He slipped it over the wanton's nose
And he's tied it to the grey mare's tail.

And he went and loosed the castle gate
And the mare didn't fail to find her way,
She's back to her own colt foal
Three long hours before the day.

So then in the morning at fair daylight,
When they had ended all their cheer,
Behold the wanton brown has gone
And so was the poor blind harper's mare.

And oh and alas is the blind harper,
"However alas that I came here
In Scotland I've got me a little colt foal
And in England they've stolen me good grey mare".

"Hold your tongue" says King Henry,
"And all your mournings let them be
For you shall get a far better mare
And well paid shall your colt foal be".

Again he harped and again he sang
And sweet was the music he let then hear.
He was paid for a foal that he never had lost
And three times over for the good grey mare.


Source: Nic Jones LP, From The Devil To A Stranger