Over Yonder’s Hill

Over yonder’s hill there is an old house
Where my true love goes and sits himself down
Takes another fresh girl on his knee
Now don’t you think that’s a grief to me?

A grief a grief I’ll tell you for why
Because she has more gold than I
Gold may glitter and silver may shine
And all my sorrows will fade in time

I wish the Lord my baby was born
And sat smiling in his own daddy’s arms
And me poor girl wrapped up in cold clay
Then all my sorrows would fade away

There is a flower I have heard people say
They grow by night and fade by day
Now if that flower I could find
It would cure my heart and ease my mind

So across the fields that poor girl she ran
Gathering flowers just as they sprang
Some she picked and some she pulled
Until she gathered her apron full

She takes them home and she makes her bed
She puts a snow white pillow in under her head#
She lies down and closed her eyes
Closed her eyes no more for to rise.

Jean learned this song from her from her grandmother Dehlia Crocker. It is often called Down in the Meadow and it was under this title that it was recorded from Jean’s mother Amy Birch by Sam Richards, Paul Wilson and Tish Stubbs. That recording can be heard on Topic TSCD661 ‘My Father is the King of the Gypsies’ under the title Over Yonder’s Hill. This was a popular song all over England, with 252 entries in the Roud folk song index. It was particularly widespread within the Gypsy communities and another version can be heard on TSCD661 sung by Surrey /Kent traveller Jasper Smith. As with this version his contains a number of floating verses from other songs which are added at will.

Do You Remember

You told me that you would come back someday
My darling to Ballyhoe
But never a word since you went away
From me so long ago
The hours are long the lonely days
That drifted into years
Oh it’s getting late but I still wait
With eyes growing dim with tears

Chorus
Do you remember the Arthen bus (hawthorn bush?)
We gathered every spring?
Do you remember the reels we danced
Around the fairy ring?
And do you remember a promise made
Beneath the chestnut tree?
But best of all my absent one
Do you remember me?

I wandered along by the lake side now
At sunset’s early glow
Thinking of all the dreams I dreamed
Of you so long ago
The whispers come the whispers go
They echo over the sea
But a foreign strand and a foreign land
Have stolen you from me

Repeat Chorus

A favourite song, learned from a recording of Foster and Allen.

Sixteen Come Sunday

Where are you going my fair pretty maid?
Where are you going my honey?
She answered me yes quite cheerfully
On an errand for my mammy
With my rue dum a day for the diddle ey right for the laura lido

May I come too my fair pretty maid?
May I come too my honey?
She answered me yes quite cheerfully
You may for me and welcome
With my rue dum a day for the diddle ey right for the laura lido

Now she was tall and her clothes were smart
And her hair hanged down in ringlets
Her eyes were blue and her shoes were black
And her buckles shone like silver
With my rue dum a day for the diddle ey right for the laura lido

How old are you my fair pretty maid?
How old are you my honey?
She answered me quite cheerfully
I’ll be sixteen come next Sunday
With my rue dum a day for the diddle ey right for the laura lido

What is your father my fair pretty maid?
What may he be my honey?
She answered me yes quite cheerfully
My father he’s a farmer
With my rue dum a day for the diddle ey right for the laura lido

Will you marry me my fair pretty maid?
Will you marry me my honey?
She answered me yes quite cheerfully
I’ll have to ask my mammy
With my rue dum a day for the diddle ey right for the laura lido

Now if I do down to your mammy’s house
When the moon is shinning clearly
Will you come down and let me in?
For your mammy she won’t hear me
With my rue dum a day for the diddle ey right for the laura lido

So he goes down to her mammy’s house
When the moon was shinning clearly
And she comes down and lets him in
And he laid in her arms till morning
With my rue dum a day for the diddle ey right for the laura lido

S
Another song Jean learned from Granny Dehlia. Often the girl is coming on seventeen but in North America Sixteen Come Sunday was popular and even Bob Dylan used the theme for his song Blackjack Davey. In England Seventeen Come Sunday was in many traditional singers’ repertoires and it turns up all over the country probably because it was printed by several Victorian broadsheet printers including Catnach and Such in London. Cecil Sharp noted it down twenty-two times during his collecting activities at the beginning of the twentieth century. Another fine version on Veteran can be heard sung by Cornish traveller Charlotte Renals on VT119CD ‘Catch me if you Can’.

I’ll Never Stop Wanting You

I’ll never stop wanting you
I’ve tried but what can I do?
There’s laughter and frowns
Wise men and clowns
Loving the way I do
Winter will turn to Spring
I’ll take all the pain they bring
You did what you had to do
I’ll never stop wanting you

Chorus
And through those lonely years
When memories out live the tunes
I still reminisce
The chance that I missed
Of having you near me

My heart just won’t set me free
Que sera what will be will be
Forever my whole life through
I’ll never stop wanting you

Repeat Chorus and last verse

Another of Jean’s favourites from the Foster and Allen stable.

Dark Eyed Gypsy

Seven gypsies all in a row
There was none of them lame or lazy o
They sang so sweet with the changing of their notes
They stole Lord Castle’s lady o

They sang so sweet and so complete
Downstairs came my lady o
And as soon as they see her bonny bonny face
They cast their gabrel(?) over her.

She kicks off her high heel shoes
Made of the Spanish leather o
She’s out in the street with her bare bare feet
She’s away with the dark eyed gypsy o

When the good lord came home that night
Enquiring for his lady o
His servant maid did reply
She’s away with the dark eyed gypsy o

Go saddle to me my good grey horse
For the brown is not so speedy o
For tonight I’ll ride to seek my bride
Who’s away with the dark eyed gypsy o

He rode east and he rode west
He rode through the woods and valleys o
He rode until he saw his bride
In the arms of the dark eyed gypsy o

Would you forsake your house and land?
Would you forsake your money o?
Would you forsake your new wedded lord
For to go with the dark eyed gypsy o?

What care I for me house and me land
What care I for money o
What care I for my new wedded lord
I’m away with the dark eyed gypsy o

They gave to me some sugar sweet
They gave to me some honey o
I gave to them a far finer thing
Was the gold rings off my fingers o

Last night I slept in a goose feather bed
With the sheets turned down so bravely o
Tonight I sleep in a cold barn shed
All along my dark eyed gypsy o
And I’d rather have a kiss from my gypsy’s lips
Than you and all your money o

Seven gypsies all in a row
There was none of them lame or lazy o
They sang so sweet with the changing of their notes
That they stole Lord Castle’s lady o

Jean first heard this song sung by Chris Coe in the late 1970s and decided that she had to sing it! It is also known as Gypsy Davy, The Gypsy Countess, The Gypsy Laddie or The Raggle Taggle Gypsies.

A Wager, A Wager

A wager, a wager, a wager I will bet
I will bet you fifty guineas on to one
That you can’t go down to that red rosy bush
And return the same way home again

When she got there her true was there
He was lying fast asleep on the ground
Three times she walked around the soles of his shoes
And three times around the crown of his head

She takes her ring off from her middle finger
And she placed it on the third of his right hand
Just for to let him now that his true love had been there
Been there and returned once again

When he awoke he said to his little greyhound
Why haven’t you awoken me before
For it’s she I would have killed and her blood I would have spilled
And her blood I would drink it just for wine

Now I am that young girl and I’ll tell you where and when
I can tell you the very time
It was in my father’s garden neath that red rosy bush
When the village clock was striking nine
 

Often known as Broomfield Hill or the Broomfield Wager this song dates back at least seven hundred years and is found right across Europe. Francis J Child gave examples as far apart as Norway and Italy, Iceland and Germany. It has appeared in ballad form in England since the eighteenth century and was published by amongst others Jacksons of Birmingham and Such of London. It has been a favourite song with Jean’s family for many years and few singing evenings pass without A Wager being sung. It was popular with many traditional singers around the country and another classic version can be heard on Veteran sung by Gordon Hall of Sussex on VT131CD ‘When the May is all in Bloom’.