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Fairport Convention




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  F  →  Fairport Convention  →  Albums  →  Liege & Lief

Fairport Convention Album


Liege & Lief (1969)
1969
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Medley
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. . .


Come all ye rolling minstrels,
And together we will try
To rouse the spirit of the air
And move the rolling sky.

Those that dance will start to dance
And those who don't will sway
In time to this our merry tune
That we play for you today

So come all ye rolling minstrels
And together we will try
To rouse the spirit of the air
And move the rolling sky

Our fiddler, he just loves to play
And that's why he plays so good.
And now he plays a violin
Made out of solid wood.

So come all ye rolling minstrels
And together we will try
To rouse the spirit of the air
And move the rolling sky

Possessor of the magic touch,
But no magician, he
Will play for you some magic notes
Instead as you will see.

So come all ye rolling minstrels
And together we will try
To rouse the spirit of the air
And move the rolling sky.

The sound of beating on the drums
From behind you hear,
And to the rhythm of guitar
We hope you'll lend an ear.

So come all ye rolling minstrels
And together we will try
To rouse the spirit of the air
And move the rolling sky

Well, the man who plays the bass does make
Those low notes that you hear.
And the high notes come from you and me
For we will sing so clear

So come all ye rolling minstrels
And together we will try
To rouse the spirit of the air
And move the rolling sky.

. . .


One evening as I rambled
among the leaves so green,
I overheard a young woman
converse with Reynardine.

Her hair was black, her eyes
were blue, her lips as red as wine,
And he smiled to gaze upon her,
did that sly, bold Reynardine.

She said, “Kind sir, be civil,
my company forsake,
For in my own opinion
I fear you are some rake.”

“Oh no,” he said, “no rake am I,
brought up in Venus' train,
But I'm seeking for concealment
all along the lonesome plain.”

“Your beauty so enticed me,
I could not pass it by
So it's with my gun I'll guard you
all on the mountain side.”

“And if by chance you should look
for me, perhaps you'll not me find,
For I'll be in my castle,
inquire for Reynardine.”

Sun and dark she followed him,
his teeth did brightly shine,
And he led her up a-the mountains,
did that sly, bold Reynardine.

. . .


A holiday, a holiday, and the first one of the year.
Lord Darnell's wife came into church, the gospel for to hear

And when the meeting it was done, she cast her eyes about,
And there she saw little Matty Groves, walking in the crowd.

“Come home with me, little Matty Groves, come home with me tonight,
Come home with me, little Matty Groves, and sleep with me till light.”

“Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home and sleep with you tonight,
By the rings on your fingers I can tell you are Lord Darnell's wife.”

“What if I am Lord Darnell's wife? Lord Darnell's not at home.
For he is out in the far cornfields bringing the yearlings home."

And a servant who was standing by and hearing what was said,
He swore Lord Darnell he would know before the sun would set.

And in his hurry to carry the news he bent his breast and ran,
And when he came to the broad mill stream he took of his shoes and he swam.

Little Matty Groves, he lay down and took a little sleep,
When he awoke, Lord Darnell was standing at his feet.

Saying “How do you like my feather bed? And how do you like my sheets?
How do you like my lady who lies in your arms asleep?”

“Oh, well I like your feather bed, and well I like your sheets.
But better I like your lady gay who lies in my arms asleep.”

"Well, Get up, get up", Lord Darnell cried "Get up as quick as you can,
It'll never be said in fair England that I slew a naked man.”

“Oh, I can't get up, I won't get up, I can't get up for my life.
For you have two long beaten swords and I not a pocket-knife.”

“Well it's true I have two beaten swords, and they cost me deep in the purse.
But you will have the better of them and I will have the worse."

"And you will strike the very first blow, and strike it like a man,
I will strike the very next blow and I'll kill you if I can.

So Matty struck the very first blow and he hurt Lord Darnell sore,
Lord Darnell struck the very next blow and Matty struck no more.

And then Lord Darnell he took his wife and he sat her on his knee,
Saying, “Who do you like the best of us, Matty Groves or me?”

And then up spoke his own dear wife, never heard to speak so free.
"I'd rather kiss from dead Matty's lips, than you with your finery.

Lord Darnell he jumped up and loudly he did bawl,
He struck his wife right through the heart and pinned her against the wall.

“A grave, a grave!” Lord Darnell cried, “to put these lovers in.
But bury my lady at the top for she was of noble kin."

. . .


Farewell, farewell to you who would hear
You lonely travelers all
The cold north wind will blow again
The winding road does call

And will you never return to see
Your bruised and beaten sons?
"Oh, I would, I would, if welcome I were
For they loathe me, every one"

And will you never cut the cloth
Or drink the light to be?
And can you never swear a year
To any one of we?

"No, I will never cut the cloth
Or drink the light to be
But I'll swear a year to one who lies
Asleep along side of me"

Farewell, farewell to you who would hear
You lonely travelers all
The cold north wind will blow again
The winding road does call

. . .


As I was a-walking along Radcliffe Highway
A recruiting party came a-beating my way.
They enlisted me and treated me 'til I did not know
And to the Queen's barracks they forced me to go.

When first I deserted, I thought myself free
Until my cruel comrade informed against me.
I was quickly followed after and brought back with speed,
I was handcuffed and guarded, heavy irons put on me.

Court martial, court martial, they held upon me
And the sentence passed upon me: three-hundred-and-three.
May the Lord have mercy on them for their sad cruelty,
For now the Queen's duty lies heavy on me.

When next I deserted, I thought myself free
Until my cruel sweetheart informed against me.
I was quickly followed after and brought back with speed
I was handcuffed and guarded, heavy irons put on me.

Court martial, court martial then quickly was got
And the sentence passed upon me: that I was to be shot.
May the Lord have mercy on them for their sad cruelty,
For now the Queen's duty lies heavy on me.

Then up rode Prince Albert in his carriage-and-six,
Saying, “Where is that young man whose coffin it is fixed?
Set him free from his irons and let him go free,
For he'll make a good soldier for his Queen and country.”

. . .

Medley

[No lyrics]

. . .


I forbid you maidens all that wear gold in your hair
To travel to Carterhaugh for young Tam Lin is there

None that go by Carterhaugh but they leave him a pledge
Either their mantles of green or else their maidenhead

Janet tied her kirtle green a bit above her knee
And she's gone to Carterhaugh as fast as go can she

She'd not pulled a double rose, a rose but only two
When up then came young Tam Lin, says "Lady, pull no more"

"And why come you to Carterhaugh without command from me?"
"I'll come and go", young Janet said, "and ask no leave of thee"

Janet tied her kirtle green a bit above her knee
And she's gone to her father as fast as go can she

Well, up then spoke her father dear and he spoke meek and mild
"Oh, and alas, Janet," he said, "I think you go with child"

"Well, if that be so," Janet said, "myself shall bear the blame
There's not a knight in all your hall shall get the baby's name"

For if my love were an earthly knight as he is an elfin grey
I'd not change my own true love for any knight you have"

Janet tied her kirtle green a bit above her knee
And she's gone to Carterhaugh as fast as go can she

"Oh, tell to me, Tam Lin," she said, "why came you here to dwell?"
"The Queen of Faeries caught me when from my horse I fell

And at the end of seven years she pays a tithe to Hell
I so fair and full of flesh and feared it be myself

But tonight is Hallowe'en and the faerie folk ride
Those that would their true love win at Miles Cross they must bide

First let past the horses black and then let past the brown
Quickly run to the white steed and pull the rider down

For I'll ride on the white steed, the nearest to the town
For I was an earthly knight, they give me that renown

Oh, they will turn me in your arms to a newt or a snake
But hold me tight and fear not, I am your baby's father

And they will turn me in your arms into a lion bold
But hold me tight and fear not and you will love your child

And they will turn me in your arms into a naked knight
But cloak me in your mantle and keep me out of sight"

In the middle of the night she heard the bridle ring
She heeded what he did say and young Tam Lin did win

Then up spoke the Faerie Queen, an angry queen was she
"Woe betide her ill-fought face, an ill death may she die"

"Oh, had I known, Tam Lin," she said, "what this night I did see
I'd have looked him in the eyes and turned him to a tree"

. . .


Within the fire and out upon the sea
Crazy Man Michael was walking
He met with a raven with eyes black as coals
And shortly they were a-talking
Your future, your future I would tell to you
Your future you often have asked me
Your true love will die by your own right hand
And crazy man Michael will cursèd be

Michael he ranted and Michael he raved
And beat up the four winds with his fists-o
He laughed and he cried, he shouted and he swore
For his mad mind had trapped him with a kiss-o
You speak with an evil, you speak with a hate
You speak for the devil that haunts me
For is she not the fairest in all the broad land
Your sorcerer's words are to taunt me

He took out his dagger of fire and of steel
And struck down the raven through the heart-o
The bird fluttered long and the sky it did spin
And the cold earth did wonder and startle
O where is the raven that I struck down dead
And here did lie on the ground-o
I see that my true love with a wound so red
Where her lover's heart it did pound-o

Crazy Man Michael he wanders and calls
And talks to the night and the day-o
But his eyes they are sane and his speech it is plain
And he longs to be far away-o
Michael he whistles the simplest of tunes
And asks the wild wolves their pardon
For his true love is flown into every flower grown
And he must be keeper of the garden

. . .


The King sits in Dunfirmline town, drinking of the blood-red wine
"Where can I get a steely skipper to sail this mighty boat of mine?"

Then up there spoke a bonny boy, sitting at the King's right knee
"Sir Patrick Spens is the very best seaman that ever sailed upon the sea"

The King has written a broad letter and sealed it up with his own right hand
Sending word unto Sir Patrick to come to him at his command

"An enemy then this must be who told the lie concerning me
For I was never a very good seaman, nor ever do intend to be"

"Last night I saw the new moon clear with the old moon in her hair
And that is a sign since we were born that means there'll be a deadly storm"

They had not sailed upon the deep a day, a day but barely free
When loud and boisterous blew the winds and loud and noisy blew the sea

Then up there came a mermaiden, a comb and glass all in her hand
"Here's to you my merry young men for you'll not see dry land again"

"Long may my lady stand with a lantern in her hand
Before she sees my bonny ship come sailing homeward to dry land"

Forty miles off Aberdeen, the waters fifty fathoms deep
There lies good Sir Patrick Spens with the Scots lords at his feet

. . .


I can't believe that it's so cold

As gentle tides go rolling by,
Along the salt sea strand
The colours blend and roll as one
Together in the sand.
And often do the winds entwine
Do send their distant call,
The quiet joys of brotherhood,
And love is lord of all.

The oak and weed together rise,
Along the common ground.
The mare and stallion light and dark
Have thunder in their sound.
The rainbow sign, the blended flower
Still have my heart in thrall.
The quiet joys of brotherhood,
And love is lord of all.

But man has come to plough the tide,
The oak lies on the ground.
I hear their tires in the fields,
They drive the stallion down.
The roses bleed both light and dark,
The winds do seldom call.
The running sands recall the time
When love was lord of all.

. . .


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