Oh my goodness. Being sentenced to quarantine has guided me to rediscover Archie and his sister and the ballads I loved for so long and haven't thought much of for 3 decades. Thanks so much.
Partially reconstructed by Archie with great arrangement. I used to have the album but it went astray. Thanks for letting me enjoy again. A great ballad collected in the Shetland Isles by Patrick Shuldham Shaw from John Sickle.
I have loved this song since Ray Fisher played it for us at the Augusta Heritage Arts Workshops (Scottish Week) in the 80s. By far the most magical of all the recordings of the song, it really evokes the Otherworld of the Fey.
And the king has gaened to the woodward wear And a bank of horsemen him drew near And some did ride and some did sing And he spied his lady them among And in yon hill there was a hall Therein would she and the horsemen all And after them the king has gaen But whan he cam it was grey stane And he took oot his pipes ta play But sair his hert wi dol an' wae But he has played a good gabber real That would ha' made a sick hert heal Noo come ye in into our hall Noo come ye in amongst us all Noo he's gaen in into their hall An he's gaen in among them all And he took oot his pipes ta play Bit sair his hert wi dol an' wae And first he played the notes o' noy And then he played the notes o' joy Noo tell to us what will ye hae What shall we gi' you for your play? What time away I will you tell And that's my lady Isabel! Yes take your lady and gaeng hame And ye be king o'er all your ain He's ta'en his lady and gaen hame An noo he's king o'er all his ain!
There lived a king into the East Scowan urla grun There lived a lady in the West Far yetter kanga norlac The king he has a-huntin' gaen An' he left his lady all alane "I wish ye'd never gaen away For your lady cold as death do lay!" For the king o' Ferries wi' his daert Has pierced your lady to the hert And he has called his nobles all To waltz a corpse into the hall And he set guards three hundred three To watch her corpse beeth necht and day At necht when they lay fast asleep Which the hoos her corpse did sweep
Oh my goodness. Being sentenced to quarantine has guided me to rediscover Archie and his sister and the ballads I loved for so long and haven't thought much of for 3 decades. Thanks so much.
Partially reconstructed by Archie with great arrangement. I used to have the album but it went astray. Thanks for letting me enjoy again. A great ballad collected in the Shetland Isles by Patrick Shuldham Shaw from John Sickle.
Classic. Amazing recordings of a master.
I have loved this song since Ray Fisher played it for us at the Augusta Heritage Arts Workshops (Scottish Week) in the 80s. By far the most magical of all the recordings of the song, it really evokes the Otherworld of the Fey.
I knew someone had to have this! Thanks so much for putting it up. It's one of my all-time favourites.
this is the best rebuff to aw the plastic celts oot....rise...
And the king has gaened to the woodward wear
And a bank of horsemen him drew near
And some did ride and some did sing
And he spied his lady them among
And in yon hill there was a hall
Therein would she and the horsemen all
And after them the king has gaen
But whan he cam it was grey stane
And he took oot his pipes ta play
But sair his hert wi dol an' wae
But he has played a good gabber real
That would ha' made a sick hert heal
Noo come ye in into our hall
Noo come ye in amongst us all
Noo he's gaen in into their hall
An he's gaen in among them all
And he took oot his pipes ta play
Bit sair his hert wi dol an' wae
And first he played the notes o' noy
And then he played the notes o' joy
Noo tell to us what will ye hae
What shall we gi' you for your play?
What time away I will you tell
And that's my lady Isabel!
Yes take your lady and gaeng hame
And ye be king o'er all your ain
He's ta'en his lady and gaen hame
An noo he's king o'er all his ain!
There lived a king into the East
Scowan urla grun
There lived a lady in the West
Far yetter kanga norlac
The king he has a-huntin' gaen
An' he left his lady all alane
"I wish ye'd never gaen away
For your lady cold as death do lay!"
For the king o' Ferries wi' his daert
Has pierced your lady to the hert
And he has called his nobles all
To waltz a corpse into the hall
And he set guards three hundred three
To watch her corpse beeth necht and day
At necht when they lay fast asleep
Which the hoos her corpse did sweep
A song about granola.