Pale was the wounded knight That bore the rowan shield Loud and cruel were the raven's cries That feasted on the field Saying "Beck water cold and clear Will never clean your wound There's none but the Witch of the Westmereland That can make thee hale and sound So turn, turn your stallion's head Till his red mane flies in the wind And the rider of the moon goes by And the bright star falls behind" And clear was the paley moon When a shadow passed him by Below the hills were the brightest stars When he heard the owlet cry Saying "Why do ye ride this way? Wherefore came ye here?" "I seek the Witch of the Westemereland That dwells by the Winding Mere" And it's weary by the Ullswater And the misty brake fern way Till through the cleft of the Kirkstane Pass The winding water lay He said "Lie ye down, my brindled hound Rest ye, my good gray hawk And thee, my steed, may graze thy fill For I must dismount and walk But come when you hear my horn And answer swift the call For I fear ere the sun will rise this morn You will serve me best of all" And it's down to the water's brim He's borne the rowan shield And the goldenrod he has cast in To see what the lake might yield And wet rose she from the lake And fast and fleet went she One half the form of a maiden fair With a jet-black mare's body And loud, long, and shrill he blew Till his steed was by his side High overhead the gray hawk flew And swiftly he did ride Saying "Course well, my brindled hound Fetch me the jet-black mare Stoop and strike, my good gray hawk And bring me the maiden fair!" She said "Pray sheathe thy silvery sword Lay down the rowan shield For I see by the briny blood that flows You've been wounded in the field" And she stood in a gown of velvet blue Bound round with a silver chain And she's kissed his pale lips once and twice And three times round again And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod Full fast in her arms he lay And he has risen hale and sound With the sun high in the day She said "Ride with your brindled hound at heel And your good gray hawk in hand There's none can harm the knight who's lain With the Witch of the Westmereland!"
Man I could put this song on infinite loop...
Pale was the wounded knight
That bore the rowan shield
Loud and cruel were the raven's cries
That feasted on the field
Saying "Beck water cold and clear
Will never clean your wound
There's none but the Witch of the Westmereland
That can make thee hale and sound
So turn, turn your stallion's head
Till his red mane flies in the wind
And the rider of the moon goes by
And the bright star falls behind"
And clear was the paley moon
When a shadow passed him by
Below the hills were the brightest stars
When he heard the owlet cry
Saying "Why do ye ride this way?
Wherefore came ye here?"
"I seek the Witch of the Westemereland
That dwells by the Winding Mere"
And it's weary by the Ullswater
And the misty brake fern way
Till through the cleft of the Kirkstane Pass
The winding water lay
He said "Lie ye down, my brindled hound
Rest ye, my good gray hawk
And thee, my steed, may graze thy fill
For I must dismount and walk
But come when you hear my horn
And answer swift the call
For I fear ere the sun will rise this morn
You will serve me best of all"
And it's down to the water's brim
He's borne the rowan shield
And the goldenrod he has cast in
To see what the lake might yield
And wet rose she from the lake
And fast and fleet went she
One half the form of a maiden fair
With a jet-black mare's body
And loud, long, and shrill he blew
Till his steed was by his side
High overhead the gray hawk flew
And swiftly he did ride
Saying "Course well, my brindled hound
Fetch me the jet-black mare
Stoop and strike, my good gray hawk
And bring me the maiden fair!"
She said "Pray sheathe thy silvery sword
Lay down the rowan shield
For I see by the briny blood that flows
You've been wounded in the field"
And she stood in a gown of velvet blue
Bound round with a silver chain
And she's kissed his pale lips once and twice
And three times round again
And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod
Full fast in her arms he lay
And he has risen hale and sound
With the sun high in the day
She said "Ride with your brindled hound at heel
And your good gray hawk in hand
There's none can harm the knight who's lain
With the Witch of the Westmereland!"
love the 600 yr old 60s song, and super live music performance capture, and yer dancin' hair!
Super post! yay!
Ran across this looking at old Mario in Real Time footage, glad I did. That was brilliant Stevie!
What a hoot!
Love it, Stevie, and my lovely Houston Jones.
So good.
Nicely done, lads.
A real cool tune! Atmospheric and great melody.
First heard this tune sung by Stan Rogers. Then Archie Fisher's version. This cover stands with those - among the best.
Thanks for that, Laird. High praise, indeed.
This is great. I hate to say this, but Archie's version may be the least best of this great song. Kate Rusby has a killah cover.
Archie Fisher wrote this. Stan Rogers' version is the cover.
Great showing from a bunch of OWGs. :-). Thank you for posting this.
OWGs R Us
Really enjoyed your version of this great tune...well done!
Excellent! Thanks for posting!
Definitely the song you’d want with you alone on a island.
Yep. Love that song.
Key change on the fly with two capos! I think he was a bit pushed when they returned to the witch though. Great performance.
Oh, yeah!
GREAT TUNE! Thanks Stevie Coyle and Houston Jones. Do the Quitters do this one?
It’s on our to-do list.
Stevie Coyle , it's one of those tunes that makes me want to march somewhere! Or at least start banging a drum, table or anything else nearby!
did archie write this ? or not .
Archie Fisher did indeed write this song. However, the version by Stan Rogers is probably more well known. Which is best is purely a personal choice.
No.
No?