I think I'm now able to put this topic to rest - although rather inconclusively. Two things occurred this month - I came across the scrap of paper on which I originally transcribed the words 35 years ago, and I went to the Village Pump to see Vin Garbutt (superb performance).

I had a discussion with John Alderslade, who kindly gave me a copy of his CD transfer of 2 early cassette recordings - 'John Alderslade' and 'Song of the West' (with Tony Batten). He wouldn't accept any payment. 'The Reaper' appears on both cassettes with identical words and tune.

The CD credits the words to Will Meade and the music to Alan Briars or John Alderslade. The notes say: As for who wrote the tune to The Reaper, I always thought that I did, Alan thinks he did. Who knows, the state we were in most of the time way back when we were in STONEGALLOWS with Tony Batten, it's amazing any of us can remember anything. Listening to a number of tunes by both, I'm inclined to favour John.

As for the words, John told me that the words came to him on a typed sheet, credited to Will Meade. He now thinks that the style of the words makes that doubtful, and the style is much more that of Alfred Williams. Listening to other tracks written by both, I agree. John has failed to find the poem in any of Alfred Williams books in the Wiltshire library, and it may well be that Will Meade reworked an earlier poem.

Here's the words as sung by John Alderslade, with the variation to my old transcription noted:

The tufted (1) lark is over the plain, the southern breezes blow,
The dew balm's (2) wet on the bending grain, cheerily, merrily O.
The prancing (3) horses of the day leap into the eastern (4) sky.
Now 'tis time to be up and away, my nutbrown lass and I.

Chorus
From daylight to starlight, through the noisy heat of noon,
No rest we'll find, but to reap and bind till the coming of the moon.

'Tis pleasant with my nutbrown lass, when stormy winds do (5) blow,
To tread the dewy meadow grass, cheerily, merrily O.
To stoop (6) amidst the golden rust, my sickle in my hand,
And scatter (7) the scarlet poppy dust that reddens all the land.

Bring out the bonny wholesome ale. Let the river flow.
The tipsy sun hangs over the dale, cheerily, merrily O.
The dew balm and the honey leaf, the poppy and the grain
Are gathered in the scented sheaf, to die upon the plain.

(1) I had 'crested lark' with some uncertainty.
(2) I had 'dew drops wetting'.
(3) 'panting'
(4) 'eastern' - refers to sunrise?
(5) 'autumn breezes' - fits the mood better.
(6) 'stroll' - again fits the mood.
(7) 'Disturb the scarlet' - I was uncertain, but definitely one word.

So there - I'm not going to worry over this any more. I'll sing my version!

Phil