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The Broom field Hill |
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Ye shall sit on his white hause-bane,1 I will pike out his bony blue e'en; Ye'll take a tress of his yellow hair, To theak yere nest when it grows bare; The gowden2 down on his young chin Will do to rowe my young ones in.
O, cauld and bare will his bed be, When winter storms sing in the tree; At his head a turf, at his feet a stone, He will sleep, nor hear the maiden's moan: O'er his white bones the birds shall fly, The wild deer bound and the foxes cry. |
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8
THE BROOMFIELD HILL
(Child, No. 43)
See Mr. Barry's text with its interesting history in the Journal, XXIV, 14, reprinted in Barry-Eckstorm-Smyth, p. 440. See also the West Virginia version of Combs, Folk-Songs du Midi des-litats-Unis, p. 127.
This is another ballad that came as a result of our experience with the Harmons in Cade's Cove, Tennessee, in August, 1930. It was recorded by Mrs. Henry from the singing of Mrs. Harmon.
1. "I wager you
That a maid can't come To the Merry Broomfield And then go away."
2. And said his true love, A-setting on his knee:
"I wager you a maiden can come To the Merry Broomfield And then go away." |
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1 The neck-bone — a phrase for the neck.
2 Golden. |
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53 |
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