Adieu Sweet Lovely Nancy

 This is one of the most popular songs that I have come across in folk song, especially in the area of sea faring, broken token and squandering money!
There are many different versions of this song, especially with the propagation of broadsides such as Swansea town and alike but perhaps the most well known is that of the Copper family from Rottingdean, however, this version is mainly inspired by Martin Simpson's beautiful rendition on his album 'Kind Letters'.

Adding to the song this week are Ali George playing some brilliant counterpoint melody on guitar and Rob helping out with some of the lines!

Here's adieu sweet lovely Nancy
Ten thousand times adieu
I'm going over the ocean love
To seek for something new

Come change your ring with me dear love
Come change your ring with me
That it may be a token of true love
When I am on the sea

And when I am all on the sea
You'll know not where I am
Kind letters I will write to you
From every foreign land

The secrets of my hear t dear girl
The best of my good will
So let your body be where it might
My heart will be with you still

There's a heavy storm arising
See how it gathers round
Whilst we poor souls on the ocean wide
Are fighting for the crown

The Captain he commands us
It's him we must obey
Expecting every moment
For to get cast away

There are tinkers, tailors and shoemakers
Lying snoring, fast asleep
Whilst we poor souls on the ocean wide
Are ploughing through the deep

There's nothing to protect us love
Or keep us from the cold
On the ocean wide where we must bide
Like jolly seamen bold

And when the wars are over
And there's peace on every shore
We'll return to our wives and our families
And the girls that we adore

We'll drink our liquor merrily
We'll spend our money free
And when our money it is all gone
We'll boldly go to sea

Bold Riley

Bold Riley by A Sunday Song

Today's song is Rob's take on the shanty Bold Riley:

"'Oh the rain it rains, all day long' - how English is that. The English folk tradition is rich in nautical songs, notably The Shanty, although most have come a long way since being sung by the Jolly Jack Tars of yesteryear. To paraphrase the great Tom Lewis, if the sailors in those days had sung 'em at the pace we sing 'em now, they'd have died of exhaustion within the hour!

Shanties were work songs, and there were three main types, short haul, halyard and capstan, some were only ever sung on the outward voyage, others on the homeward leg, sailors being very superstitious. On the other hand, singing "Goodbye my darling" when you're on your way home does seem a bit daft.

Bold Riley is a great favourite at the Sunday Star session, backed here by Ali singing harmony and Tim's beautiful guitar work filling in the spaces.
And who was bold Riley? We don't know, and we don't care, but we do hope he made it safely back home to Mary."


Oh the rain it rains all day long,
Bold Riley-o, Bold Riley,
And the northern wind, it blows so strong,
Bold Riley-o has gone away.

Chorus
Goodbye my sweetheart,
goodbye my dear-o
Bold Riley-o, Bold Riley,
Goodbye my darlin',
goodbye my dear-o,
Bold Riley-o has gone away.

Well come on, Mary, don't look glum,
Bold Riley-o, Bold Riley,
Come White-stocking Day you'll be drinkin' rum
Bold Riley-o has gone away.

Chorus

We're outward bound for the Bengal Bay,
Bold Riley-o, Bold Riley,
Get bending, me lads,
it's a hell-of-a-way,
Bold Riley-o has gone away

Words taken from Kate Rusby's Bold Riley on the album Hourglass

The Rushes

Rushes by A Sunday Song

Today's song comes from the pen of Ali George, a terrific singer-songwriter in Bath and co-host of the Sunday sessions:

The Rushes is a kind of lament for a place. It’s very much a song inspired by nature. In that aspect it could be viewed as old fashioned. The lyrical inspiration for the song certainly comes from an old tradition: 8th and 9th Century Chinese poetry. Li Po is one of my favourite poets. Musically it’s been likened to Leonard Cohen (I don’t think there’s any argument there).

Rob Winder, who has always expressed an interest in this song, (much to my pleasure) sings the co-vocal here. Tim Graham plays some understated yet beautiful guitar.
 

The small ways of the rushes are quiet
I stepped over the fence tonight
The church bells of Leigh are not ringing
But the birds of the brook are singing

All my rushes die while I am away
Oh my angel why don’t we come to stay
For a while

The small ways of the rushes are quiet
I slipped through golden trees tonight
I miss quiet evenings like this
Soft as my sweet lovers kiss

Chorus

The small ways of the rushes are quiet
I stepped over the fence tonight
The sunset is an hour away
So I’ll wait out what’s left of the day

Chorus

Ali

Polly Vaughan

Polly Vaughan by A Sunday Song


The song this week was brought to my mind during one of the many gale driven storms this week. I've always thought this a strange song with the hunter mistaking a woman (and his true love no less) for a swan due to her apron being wrapped around her. Reading further into the history there are two main threads of theory surrounding the subject matter: firstly that it echoes previous myths and legends involving metamorphoses of a maiden into a swan (highlighted in other versions of the song by the lady's fair skin) or of a hunter shooting and killing his love by accident. The other thread of thinking is the proliferation of rifles amongst hunters simply lead to a greater number of accidents... You can make up your mind as to which version you think is more probable, more interesting or just sounds better when introducing the song!

This song is performed by the excellent Rosemary Lippard with Tim on guitar, of the song Rose says:

"I first heard Polly Vaughan sung by Anne Briggs whose version I've adapted. I was caught by the haunting tune and her clear, steady voice which perfectly complements and gives such gravity to the melancholy lyric. I love the origins of the tale, which go back to a folklore which says that some magical maids transform into swans or white deer by night and are hunted by a brother or a lover and are killed before re-assuming their human shape."

Come all you young fellows that would handle a gun,
Beware how you shoot as the night's coming on,
For my Jimmy met me in the woods, he mistook me for a swan
And he shot me and killed me and my spirit comes to warn

As I was a-walking in a shower of rain
I sheltered in a green bush, my hair and clothes to save
My white apron thrown over me, he mistook me for a swan
And he shot me, killed me at the setting of the sun

Then Jimmy bore my body with his dog and his gun
Crying "Uncle dear Uncle oh what have I done?
I met my love in a dark wood; I mistook her for a swan
And I shot her and killed her for sport and the hunt"

Then out rushed her uncle with his locks hanging grey
Crying "Jimmy dear Jimmy don't you dare run away
Don't let them cry guilty 'til the trial do come on
For they never will hang you for the shooting of a swan"

Well the trial came on and my spirit could not rest
To think of my true love taken under arrest
Crying "let Jimmy go free whom I've loved my life long
For he never would have shot his own Polly Vaughan"

A Bright and Rosy Morning

A Bright and Rosy Morning by A Sunday Song

I racked my brains over which song to start with, for some reason every song connected to January that I know is miserable! In the end I went for 'On a bright and rosy morning' which I found whilst flicking through 'The Foggy Dew': the third book of songs collected in Dorset and Hampshire by Gardiner and the Hammond Brothers edited by the late Frank Purslow. Though not strictly January based, I was reminded of it after reading about the New Year hunts; I love songs that celebrate the countryside and, notwithstanding my views
on hunting today or those of others, this is one of those songs, with its final refrain, that inspires the sort of joy of the new day that folk songs seem to hold so simply and give so gracefully.

This is a song that appears around and about in various guises, such is the case of any good song in the folk canon!

On a bright and rosy morning the sun shone o'er the hills
Just as the day was dawning across the meadows and fields
   [Whilst the merry, merry, merry horn cries 'come, come away'
    It's awake from your slumbers and behold some new day.] x2

The fox rose from his cover, he seem'd for to fly,
Our horses at full speed. my boys, our hounds in full cry

He led us a chase, my boys, for fifty long miles,
Over hedges and ditches, over gates and over stiles

Our day's sport being over, our horses at their ease,
We will call for a bowl, my boys, to drink when we please

Tim