Songs for Wayfaring

John Barleycorn

This is the story of Barley’s murder and rebirth, and how his strange sacrifice enriches humanity. The voice of this song is of an animist nomad responding to the wonder and brutality of the first agriculturalists.

Nobody knows how old this song is - earliest versions date from the origins of the printing press. Before that, we have no way of telling. Barley may refer to ‘Beowa’, a Saxon pagan vegetable deity called Barley. This may be a remarkable survival from deepest history, or a canny reinvention from a songful antiquarian somewhere along the way. Perhaps they are pretty much the same thing?

This is a good song to sing with a pint of ale or cup of whiskey. It is also fitting to sing in the middle of a cereal crop. I find cows also like it.

Lyrics

Well, there were three men come out of the West, their fortunes for to try. And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die. They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, poured clods all on his head. Then these three men made a solemn oath, John Barleycorn was dead.

They let him lie for a very long time, till the rains from heaven did pour. Then little Sir John, he raised his head, and so amazed them all. They let him lie till the long midsummer when he looked both pale and wan. Then little Sir John grew a long long beard, and so became a man.

They hired men with the scythes so sharp, to cut him all down by the knee. They rode on and tied his around by the waist, served him most barbrously. They hired men with the crab-tree sticks, to cut him skin from bone. O but the miller he has served him far worse than that, for he’s ground him between two stones.

It’s little Sir John in the nut brown bowl, and brandy in the glass. And little Sir John in the nut brown bowl proved the stronger man at last. For the hunter he can’t hunt his fox, nor to loudly blow his horn. And the tinker he can’t mend his kettles nor his pots, without a little bit of John Barleycorn.

Adieu Sweet Lovely Nancy

A classic shore song, offering farewell with a mix of reality and hope.

For may hundreds of years, it was perilously easy to find yourself at sea as a British man. Press Gangs roamed freely, grabbing whoever they saw. Sailing was tough to avoid. This is a song that says goodbye to the lover left behind. It also promises that return shall come - with money to spend freely - but inevitably, the cycle of departure and return shall continue.

First recorded in the 18th Century, and collected mainly in Sussex, with many singers noting the Copper Family as a source.

Lyrics

Here’s adieu sweet lovely Nancy, ten thousand times adieu. I’m a going round the ocean love to seek for something new. Come change your ring with me dear girl, come change your ring with me. For it might be a token of trie love while I am far upon the sea.

When I am far upon the sea you’ll know not where I am. Kind letters I will write to you from every foreign land. The secrets of your heart, dear girl, are the best of my good will. So let your body be where it might, my heart is with you still.

There’s a heavy storm arising, see how it gathers round. While we poor souls on the ocean wide are fighting for the crown. There’s nothing to protect us love, nor to keep us from the cold. On the ocean wide, where we must abide, like jolly seamen bold.

There are tinkers, tailors, shoemakers lie snoring fast asleep. While we poor souls on the ocean wide are ploughing through the deep. Our officers commanding us, and then we must obey. Expecting every moment for to get cast away.

Yet when the wars are over, there’ll be peace on every shore. We’ll return to our wives and our families, and the girls that we adore. We’ll call for liquor merrily, and spend our money free. And when the money it is all gone, we’ll boldly go to sea.

Spenser the Rover

The archetypal wanderer, who leaves home forever, and then returns forever too. This song is found all over Britain, but enjoys particular association with a Sussex family of singing farmers called the Copper Family.

Spenser may be the prototypical wayfarer, driven onto the path for mysterious reasons of being ‘reduced’. He coldharbours cleverly, making his woodland bed from clematis and ivy (a wild hammock?). He also drinks water from springs and fountains, and eats the simplest of food.

Then he has a dream of his long lost family, and returns home to jubilation and love, unrecognisable at first, but finally settling deeply in the place from which he came.

For every setting out, there is a returning home.

Lyrics

These words were composed by Spenser the Rover. Who travelled Great Britain and most parts of Wales. He had been so reduced, which caused great confusion. And that was the reason he went on the roam.

In Yorkshire near Rotherham, he had been on his rambles. Being weary of travelling he sat down to rest. At the foot of yonder mountain, there runs a clear fountain. With bread and cold water he himself did refresh.

And it tasted more sweeter than the gold he had wasted. More sweeter than honey, and gave more content. But the thought of his babies, lamenting their father, brought tears to their eyes, which made him lament.

The night fast approaching to the woods he resorted. With woodbine and ivy his bed for to make. There he dreamt about sighing, lamenting and crying. “Go home to your family, and rambling forsake”.

So on the fifth of November, I’ve a reason to remember. When first he returned to his family and wife. They stood so surprised, when first he arrived, To behold such a stranger once more in their sight.

His children come around him, with their prittle-prattling stories, with their prittle-prattlign stories, to drive cares away. Now they are united like birds of one feather, like bees in one hive, contented they’ll be.

So now he’s a-living in his cottage contented, with woodbine and roses growing all around the door. He’s as happy as those that have thousands of riches. Contented he’ll stay, and go a rambling no more.

Claudy Banks

Claudy Banks’ theme is one of the great tales of humanity - the returning lover who is not recognised by his lamenting sweetheart. As a theme, it is older than Homer.

For wayfarers, you may not find everything remains as you left it on return, but this is not disaster, so much as an opportunity to face the change and meet it with re-engagement, which will bring greater joy than ever hoped for.

Probably Irish in origin, though perhaps North English too. The version I love was collected in Southampton. Songs like these travelled with ballad sellers and wayfarers, to take seed all over the land.

Lyrics

As I rode out one morning, all in the month of May, Down by the Banks of Claudy I carelessly did stray. There I beheld a fair maid, in sorrow did complain. Lamenting of her own true love who had crossed the raging main.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, he is my darling boy. He is the darling of my heart, all in the month of May.

Well I stepped up unto her, and I caught her in great surprise. My own she did not know me, for I was in disguise. And I said: My pretty fair maid, my joy and heart’s delight, How far d’you mean to wander on this dark and dreary night?’

Well it’s on the banks of Claudy I wish he would me show, Take on a fair young maiden who has nowhere else to go. For I’m in search of a young man, young Johnny tis his name. And on the banks of Claudy I hear he does remain.

Hi ho, hi ho, he is my darling boy, he is the darling of my heart, All on the walls of Troy.

Well this is the banks of Claudy, on them you do now stand. Do not believe young Johnny, for he is a false young man. Do not believe young Johnny, he will not meet you here. Through the greenwood you may tarry no danger need you fear.

Oh but if my Johnny were here tonight he would keep me from all harm. But he’s on the field of battle and in his his uniform. He’s on the field of battle, all danger does defy. Like a royal King of honour all on the walls of Troy.

Hi ho, hi ho, he is my darling boy, he is the darling of my heart, All on the walls of Troy.

But it’s six long months and better since your Johnny left the shore, to cross the raging oceans where the thundering billows roar. To cross the raging oceans, for honour and for fame. And I heard his ship was wrecked all on the cruel coats of Spain.

Well as soon as she had heard this she fell in a deep despair, A-wringing of her lily white hands and a tearing of her hair. Saying ‘if my Johnny’s drownded, no other man I’ll take. Through the lonesome woods and valleys will I wander for his sake.

Hi ho, hi ho, he is my darling boy, he is the darling of my heart, All on the walls of Troy.

As soon as he had heard this no longer could he stand. He flew into her arms crying ‘Betsy I’m the man’. Crying ‘Betsy I’m the young man who’s caused you grief and pain. And since we’ve met on Claudy Banks we’ll never part again’.

Hi ho, hi ho, he is my darling boy, he is the darling of my heart, All on the walls of Troy.

Hi ho, hi ho, he is my darling boy, he is the darling of my heart, All in the month of May.

The Drunken Sailor

Possibly one of the best known songs in Britain, due to the UK’s deeply embedded traditions of over-drinking and sea-faring.

The origin of this song is as a work song for sailors, particularly on ‘walk away’ tasks like tacking or hauling. Songs (like walking!) were not traditionally for leisure so much as purpose. As a sea shanty, this song is not much older than 200 years, but its melodic origins are in an Irish clan marching song of unknown antiquity, possibly as a bagpipe tune.

This is a song that can get a whole pub joining in on the chorus. And you can add any novel punishments you like to the poor sailor’s treatment…

Lyrics

What shall we do with the drunken sailor? What shall we do with the drunken sailor? What shall we do with the drunken sailor? Early in the morning.

Hoo-ray and up she rises. Hoo-ray and up she rises. Hoo-ray and up she rises, Early in the morning.

Take him, shake him, try and wake him…

Lock him in the cabin with the captain’s daughter…

Put him in a dress and throw him to his shipmates…

Shave his belly with a rusty razor,

That’s what we do with the drunken sailor…

Hal an Tow

A Cornish May Day song, particularly connected to Helston and its famed ‘Furry Dance’, this song loudly and publicly announces the beginning of Summer. The song has limited timing, but if you hit it right, it can be exactly the right song. But also, the closer you get to May Day, be careful of shooting this song off too early.

Quoted by Shakespeare in As You Like It, which indicates the song’s well-known use long before the printing press.

Lyrics

Take no scorn to wear the horns, it was the crest when you were born. Your father’s father wore it, and your father wore it too.

Hal an Tow, jolly rumble-o, we were up long before the day-o. To welcome in the summer time, to welcome in the May-o. For summer is a-coming in and winter’s gone away.

What happened to the Spaniard, he made so great a boast o. He will eat the feathered goose, and we will eat the roast o.

Hal an Tow…

Robin Hood and Little John have both gone to the fair-o. We shall to the merry green wood to hunt the buck and hare-o.

Hal an Tow…

The Lord and Lady bless you with all their power and might o. And bring their peace upon us, bring peace by day and night o.

Hal an tow…

O Dear, What can the matter be?

A nursery rhyme of ancient origins, telling of the sadness felt for a lover who has gone wayfaring to the local fair and is taking longer than hope to return.

As with all these ancient songs, you should feel free and easy to add your own energy and interpretation.

Lyrics

Oh dear, what can the matter be? Dear, dear, what can the matter be? Oh dear what can the matter be? Johnny’s so long at the fair.

He promised to buy me a bunch of blue ribbons, A bright coloured garment, a garland of roses, A little straw hat to set off the blue ribbons, That tie up my bonny brown hair.

(oh dear…)

He promised to buy me a fair ring should please me, And then for a kiss oh he vowed he would tease me. He promised to buy me a bunch of blue ribbons To tie up my bonny brown hair.

(oh dear…)

The Parting Glass

An Irish song of farewell between friends. Is it goodbye at parting, or death? To ‘rise’ could mean promotion to a new place or career, or it could mean a more final end. You can sing the interpretation that feels best for you.

Lyrics

Of all the money ever I’ve had, I spent it in glad company. And of all the harm that ever I’ve done, alas twas done to none but me. And all I’ve done, for want of wit, to memory now I can’t recall. So fill to me the parting glass: Good night, and joy be with you all.

Of all the friends that ever I’ve known, they’re sorry for my going away. And of all the sweethearts that e’re I’ve known, they’d wish me one more day to stay. But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not. I will gently rise and I’ll softly call: Good night, and joy be with you all.

The Saucy Bold Robber

The wayfaring paths are not always safe. Seven ft tall robbers are known to roam (among other monsters). This song is about the perils of return, replete with blessings, from a journey far away. In this case, a sailor returns home with his fee, ready to spend and make merry, until he encounters a robber intent on stealing everything he has earned in all his hard days at sea.

The confrontation is hard, but the sailor defeats the robber, and discovers how much money he stole from elsewhere. We can assume the sailor pockets the lot, and makes merry to even greater degree on his final return home.

Stand up against those who would take from you what is precious and irreplaceable.

I am reminded of the return of the Hobbits to the Shire. One final test is needed, but they are equal to it.

This song is about 250 years old, and originates in Norfolk.

Lyrics

Come all you young fellows, that go out a tippling. I’ll have you give attention and listen to my song. I’ll tell you a story of a saucy bold robber: Seven foot tall, and in proportion quite strong.

He’s robbed Lawyer Morgan and the Lady of Dargate. Five hundred bright guineas from each one of them. Then he spied a young sailor as he was a riding, and boldly as a lion he stepped unto him.

‘Deliver your money’ says the saucy bold robber. ‘You’ve plenty of bulk in your pockets I can see’. ‘Oh yes’ says the sailor ‘I have plenty of money, but while I have life, then I’ve got none for thee’.

Then the saucy bold robber struck the jolly young sailor, such a blow on the head, as brought him to the ground. ‘Oh’ says the sailor ‘you have hurt me quite heavy. Now I will endeavour to return it again’.

So then they have stripped, like lambkins they skipped, and they fought life for life, like soldiers in field. At the 98th meeting there was a completement, And the saucy bold robber by the sailor boy was killed.

Then says the jolly young sailor to the saucy bold robber: ‘I pray you won’t lay any blame unto me. For if I’d been a robber of ten hundred guineas, I never would have stopped a poor sailor boy like me’.

My Son John

An anti-war banger ready to sing at Army recruiters whenever they are met. Originally a Napoleonic era Irish song, this became the most popular marching song of the 1916 Irish volunteers. I found it incredibly fitting to sing at protests against the Iraq war.

Lyrics

My son John was tall and slim, and he had a leg for every limb. But now he’s got no legs at all, they were both shot away by the cannon ball.

With my roo-dum-dye, rappa-diddle-aye, Whack for my riddle with my roo-dum-die.

Oh were you drunk, or were you blind, when you left your two fine legs behind? Or was it sailing on the sea wore your two fine legs right down to the knee?

(with my roo-dum-dye…)

I was not drunk, I was not blind, when I left my two fine legs behind. Nor was it sailing on the sea wore my two fine legs right down to the knee.

(with me roo-dum-die…)

For I was tall, I was slim, I had a leg for every limb. But now I’ve got no legs at all, they were both shot away by the cannon-ball.

(with me roo-dum-die… x2)

The Turtle Dove

A song of departure and the promise of return. In legend, Turtle Doves were seen a monogamous, and would rather die than breed with a second partner. This song is about how nothing will prevent the return of one dedicated partner to another. A song to sing before setting out wayfaring and leaving your loved behind?

This was collected in Rusper from a pub landlord. Rusper is only one day’s walk from Knepp Farm, whose re-wilding campaign has allowed the Turtle Dove birds, today deeply endangered throughout the UK, to return to Sussex in ever greater numbers.

Lyrics

Fare thee well my dear, I must be gone, and leave you for a while. If I go away, I’ll come back again, though I roam ten thousand miles my dear, Though I roam ten thousand miles.

So fair thou art, my bonny lass, so deep in love am I. And I never will prove false to the bonny love I love, till the stars fall from the sky, my dear, Till the stars fall from the sky.

The sea will never run dry, my dear, nor the rocks melt with the sun. And I never will prove false to the bonny lass I love, till all these things be done my dear, Till all these things be done.

O yonder does sit the little Turtle Dove, he does sit on yonder high tree. A making a moan for the loss of his love, as I will do for thee, my dear, as I will do for thee.

Pleasant and Delightful

A final song of parting, with the promise of deep unity on return. Built for chorus harmonies. Sing along!

Lyrics

It was pleasant and delightful one midsummer morn, When the fields and the meadows were all covered with corn. And the blackbirds and the thrushes sang on every green spray, And the larks they sang melodious at the dawning of the day.

And the Larks they sang melodious (x3) At the dawning of the day.

Well a sailor and his true love were walking one day, Says the sailor to his true love ‘I am bound far away'. ‘I am bound for the East Indies, where the loud cannons roar. I must go and leave you Nancy, though you’re the girl that I adore.

I must go and leave you Nancy (x3), though you’re the girl that I adore.

Then the ring from off her finger she instantly drew, Saying ‘Take this, dearest William, and my heart will go too.’ And as he embraced her, tears from her eyes flew. Saying ‘may I go along with you?’ ‘Oh no my love, fare thee well!’.

Saying ‘May I go along with you? (x3). Oh no my love, fare thee well.

So fair thee well my dearest Nancy, I am bound far away. And my ship it is waiting out there in the bay. The anchor is hoisted, she awaits the following tide. And if ever I return again, I will make you my bride.

And if ever I return again (x3) I will make you my bride.

The Life of Man

A very ancient trope, of a human life being like the span of a leaf on a tree - and the implications for mourning and self-concern that go with it. When encountering death on a Wayfaring journey, this is the song I tend to offer.

Lyrics

As I was a-walking one morning at ease. A-viewing the leaves as they hung from the trees. They were all in full motion, or appeared to be. And the leaves that were withered, they fell from the tree.

What’s the life of a man, any more than a leaf? A man has his season, so why should we grieve? Although in this life we appear fine and gay, Like the leaves we must wither, and soon fade away.

If you’d seen the leaves, just a few days ago. They were all in full motion, and appearing to grow. The frost came upon them, and withered them all. The rain came upon them, and down they did fall.

(What’s the life of a man…)

Go down yonder churchyard, many names there you’ll see. All have fallen from this world, like the leaves from a tree. When age and affliction upon us do call. Like the leaves we must wither, and down we must fall.

(What’s the life of a man…)

Lyke Wake Dirge

Another song for endings - from the Yorkshire moors, where this song was sung to accompany coffins carried on an ancient pathway.

Lyrics

This ae night, this ae night, Every night and all. Fire and fleet and candle light, And Christ receive your soul.

If e’er thou gavest hosen or shoon, Every night and all. Sit thee doon and put them on, And Christ receive your soul.

This ae night, this ae night, Every night and all. Fire and fleet and candle light, And Christ receive your soul.