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about
Scots (Century unknown)
Scots was spoken in Galloway from the middle ages, initially synonymously with Scottish Gaelic and eventually taking over.
Also known as 'The Lass o Roch Royal' and 'Rovin on a Winters Night', Lord Gregory is a haunting tale that has travelled across time and traditions, with versions found in Scotland, England, Ireland, America and Canada.
lyrics
“O wha will lace my shoes sae sma', and wha will glove my hand?
And wha will lace my middle sae jimp wi' my new-made linen band?
And wha will kaim my yellow hair wi' my new-made siller kaim?
And wha will faither my young son till Lord Gregory come hame?
“Sae I will ger a bonnie bonnie boat and I will sail the sea,
And I will gang to Lord Gregory since he cannae come hame to me.
O row, O row, ye mariners and bring me to dry land,
For yonder I see my love's castle close by the sault sea strand.
“O open the door, Lord Gregory, O open and let me in,
For the wind blows through my yellow hair and I'm shivering tae the chin.”
“Awa, awa ye wild woman, some ill death may ye dee,
Ah ye're either a witch or a wild warlock or a mermaid o the sea.”
“I'm neither a witch nor a wild warlock nor a mermaid o the sea,
But I am fair Annie of Roch Royal, O open the door to me.”
“Awa, awa ye wild woman, for here ye sanna win in,
Gae droon ye in the saut, saut sea or hang on the gallow's pin!”
When the cock did craw and the day did daw and the sun began to peep,
Then up did rise Lord Gregory and sair, sair did he weep.
“I dreamed a dream, my mother dear, the thocht o it gars me greet,
I dreamed fair Annie o Roch Royal lay cauld deid at my feet.”
“Git it be Annie o Roch Royal that gars ye mak' a this din,
She stood a' nicht at our ha' door but I didna let her in.”
“Awa, awa ye cruel mother, some ill death may ye dee,
That ye wadna let poor Annie in or else hae wauken me.”
Sae he's gane doon tae yon sea shore as fast as he could fare,
And he saw fair Annie in her boat and the wind it tossed her sair.
The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough, and the boat was dashed on shore,
Fair Annie she floated on the wave but her young son rose no more.”
Lord Gregory tore his yellow hair and he made his heavy moan,
Fair Annie lay cauld deid at his feet and his bonnie young son was gone.
“O wae betide, cruel mother, some ill death may ye dee,
That ye wadna let poor Annie in when she cam sae far tae me.”
credits
from Oran Bagraidh,
track released February 2, 2019
Josie Duncan: harp, voice
Conor Caldwell: fiddle, electronics
Doimnic Mac Giolla Bhríde: voice
Ben Seal: percussion
One of my favorite albums ever and I listen to it all the time, every song is beautifully made and I admire the songwriting. Way Up on the Mountain wrenches my heart in the best possible way, the blending and passion of these singers is something genuinely special. feathered_fingernail
Surprisingly laid back EP given the cover art, but still some fine traditional music from the band. You can't go far wrong with Dàimh. (Eagerly awaiting the bandana!) Oynque
I did find this band in Youtube, Live at Shrewsbury Folk Festival 2023.
For me it was so good, can't find words, it blew me away and still does. dahlrockson
