SGU Song Book
These are not all the songs sung in the SGU, or even all the songs sung in the Kingdom of Patria. This is
simply the full text of all the songs that appear in The Last-Minute Queen.
SGU Songs
Traditional Songs
SGU Songs
All of Our Days
Anthony von Sternheim and Harold Godfrey
"Sim sammy satter, jen jimmy jatter,"
Heads close together, the women all say.
"Noon nilly natter, hearts are what matter,
If you would love us all of our days."
Tom was a good lad, never a sad lad,
Always a smile and a kind word.
Starlight and moonbeam, lost in a daydream,
Walked in the wood and spied a fair maid.
"Shim silly shammer, glim gilly glamour,
No use to stammer," sang the elf maid.
"Dim duncey durking, I see thee lurking,
Numb ninnyhammer cannot catch me!"
Tom was a bold lad, never a shy lad,
Kissed all the girls in the country:
Sprang in the clearing, seized her white shoulders,
Got only air and maid mockery:
"Flim flinty flammer, man-minted manners,
Glib grubby grabber gaineth not me!
Mind, muddy mooner, some shimmer sooner,
Hum heady humor if you would be."
Tom was a daft lad, lovelorn and laughed at,
Seized by a vision of fairy beauty.
Children would follow, shouting and jeering
Words they imagined elf maids would say:
"Fim filly fotion, drown in the ocean,
I'll lift not a finger, you for to save.
Fum feeble frother, don't be a bother,
Brief candle-outer, get to your grave."
Tom was a craftman, always an apt man,
Built up a trap of wire and lace.
Cowslips and rose hips, daisies and tulips,
Lured lady elf love into that place.
"Now never nothing," whispered the lassy,
"My silly earthling," wasting away.
"Daffodils uprooted fade in a moment,
Elf in a cage but briefly you'll see."
Tom was a sweet lad, never a cruel lad,
Tore up the cage and helped her to stand.
Into the wood he carried his lady,
Turned for a moment and then she was gone.
"Gone! giddy gleamer far from the schemer,
Now that I'm free you'll never see me!
Sad silly sulker, drab scratch-the-dirter,
Hope all you want, I've nothing for thee."
Tom was a grim lad, heart all-a-dim lad,
Still left her flowers a year and a day,
Sugar and taffy, honey and comfrey,
Ribbons and bangles in that same glade.
"Shh sooey sisper," he heard the wind whisper,
"Shabble the shibble, shibber shub she."
Mice ate the candy, ants took the honey,
Birds with the ribbons built a nest in the tree.
Tom was a home lad, always-alone lad,
Opened his door and what did he see?
Cowslips and rose hips, daisies and tulips,
Fine daffodils and finer lady.
"Sim salla sindows, eyes are the windows,
Deeds are the proof and heart is the key!
Pick up your jaw and tell me this instant:
Faithful and patient man, will you love me?"
Tom is a gay man, wed-to-his-may man,
Elf-lass besotted all his days through.
Shrugs at the question shy boys will stammer,
Eve of their weddings, if he does rue.
"Wim willy wistry, read in your hist'ry,
Woman's a myst'ry, from the first day.
Your pretty sweetheart, my lady loveling,
If they do differ who is to say?"
"Fim fammy flatter, jim jenny jather,"
Heads close together, the women all say.
"Soon silly slather, hearts are what matter,
Now we will love you all of our days."
Calafia
Ioseph of Derry
Daughter of the West, Patria's first seed,
Bountiful and best, free from hate and greed.
Kingdoms split, and provinces decay,
Baronies dissolve like ocean spray:
Immortal, Calafia.
Restless breakers plead favors from her hand.
Eastern mountains speed shade to desert sand.
Gray whales spout, and grunions mob the shore,
Condor soars above the cougar's roar.
Here in our Calafia.
Where her people go, baronies arise.
Dreiburgen started so, Sternheim's golden prize.
Du Lac reigns in far-off Germany,
Eilonwy beside the Western Sea,
Offspring of Calafia.
Mezentius decreed the dream be made anew.
The Pelicans took heed, and like a flow'r it grew.
The Golden Unicorn breathes the southern air,
Knights protecting it stroke its silky hair.
Laurels praise Calafia.
When our exile's past, when the work is done,
Then our feet turn at last to seek the beaming sun.
Foreign lands have lured us long away,
Now our hearts will brook no more delay.
We've come home, Calafia.
Denny Murphy
Ioseph of Derry
Once upon a tourney in olden Calafia
There was a handsome laddy delighting ladys' eyes.
Or so he told us, told us, and told us;
Denny, don't you know that a gentleman's discreet?
Well, every lord a ribbon bears, a token from his lady.
He pins it nearest to his heart and shelters it from blows.
But not for Denny to single out one lady —
You couldn't see his armor for the favors that he wore!
To take the field for the lists the heralds call for Denny;
He's flirting with his latest and hears them not at all.
Oh, Denny Murphy! Calling Denny Murphy!
He's counting up her fingers, with a kiss upon each nail.
Now in those days they called three times, and you would answer smartly;
They did not call you after that, you forfeited the bout.
Oh, Denny Murphy! Calling Denny Murphy!
He's searching for a scrap of space to pin her favor on.
Then suddenly he hears the cry, they're calling for the final time!
He jams his helmet on his head, and snatches up his sword.
See Denny Murphy sprinting for the eric,
Not a second's time to check his gear before the fight!
His knees of finest Kirby plate have locked up at the field's edge.
He topples like a stricken oak, no knight hit him so hard.
Poor Denny Murphy, face-down Denny Murphy,
His pig-snout bascinet he drove into the muddy lawn!
Now shall we help him to his feet? I think I see him twitching.
Do you suppose his air holes are all buried in the ground?
Or shall we leave him? And let the ladies grieve for him?
O how could we use such a dashing laddy so?
The Hey Nonny Song
Hundreds of people
The "Hey Nonny Nonny Song" is a device for group singing. The singer explains the structure of
the song and sings some examples, and invites the audience to invent new verses on the spot. As the
verses are only rhymed couplets, marvelous things often ensue. The verses below are given for
inspiration and example only, and are only a tiny selection of those sung over the years.
Brother Sebastian was an upright guy,
Until Diana gave him the eye.
Poor Lord Peter just can't win,
"For the crown of the West," he said, "begin!"
Uneasy lies the crownéd head,
A target for big chunks of bread!
Marshall Jerry won't give an inch,
Survive his testing and combat's a cinch!
The grim axe fell, the head went thud,
The axeman fainted at the sight of blood.
Robert Godwin hobbled along,
With a heart of gold and a froggy song.
Denny, don't rush out to the field,
The grass is all too ready to yield.
Totentanz is grim! Totentanz is black!
(Totentanz has grass stains on his back.)
We like to go to tourneys in Failte,
But the heat up there is gonna melt ya.
A herald's work is never done,
But Thomas has a lot of fun.
Dietrich and Friedrich look the same,
But they have completely different names.
Lord Dragon does what a dragon can,
And on his shield bears a rampant man.
Lady Käthe favors period shoes,
They're round—
they're black—
they're "period" shoes!
Give bold Sir Grigoriy lots of room,
And as for Natasha—va va voom!
Of mercy Lysander has no ounce,
Three times as they fall and once when they bounce!
Inerrant
Ioseph of Derry
I left my heart with the evening star,
But my eyes have been caught and can't go so far:
My shadow must follow wherever you are.
Where thy will decrees, there perforce am I,
Though a season, a year, or an age pass by
On the quest of a kiss, or but for a sigh.
A moment is a long, long time for lovers!
In a moment your whole life can flash on by
While waiting for your darling's answer—
Or stop forever, in bliss.
My lips to thy hand, and away I stride!
On the wings of my joy will I gladly ride
All thy dragons to slay, and then back to thy side.
If a wound I take, this thy tears shall heal.
If my leg I break, I can to thee kneel.
If my arms grow weak, thou wilt make them steel.
A lifetime is a short, short time for lovers!
At the end of my days it will seem an hour
Since first I heard her breathless welcome
And felt that shock hit our souls.
I found my love in the morning star.
I'll yearn no more nor gaze from afar,
But make my home where thy bright eyes are.
Early in the morning till late at evening
I'll find my pole star in thee!
Ioseph's Farewell
Ioseph of Derry
I wake in the morning when the geese go by,
The lost geese, the wild geese.
It isn't Fall, but the geese go by,
And my heart longs to fly home.
For the glens and the dells of Ireland call
Their gone lads, their flown lads.
It's night in my heart when I'm far from home,
But night in my home would be day.
I walk in the day and my love is here,
My true love, my always love.
It's noon by the sun, yet my love is here;
She'd be with me there, as well.
I came to be with her wherever she would,
For she was my life and my joy.
Wherever she was, was home to me;
Now I'll take her home in my heart.
Look for me where the hills are green,
As only those hills can be green.
Listen for me where the silkies sing,
And the pookas dance on the sea.
Noah Save Us All
Anthony von Sternheim
All we wanted was a little fun,
Swordplay under the smiling sun,
But the heavens opened and the rains did come,
Noah save us all!
We bear the Sun upon our flag,
You'll sunscreen find in every bag.
But now the wind and the rain play tag,
Noah save us all!
The tent poles sink in the soggy ground,
The fallen fighters are like to drown.
The water is rising all around:
Noah save us all!
All we need is a little ark,
We'll use it like a county park.
Fighters on deck to the heralds will hark,
If Noah will save us all.
Northern Kin
Ioseph of Derry
Oh the southern lands breed friendly folk,
Who treat you as if you were kin;
But for martial prowess and deeds of arms
Give me a German or Finn;
A German, a Russian, or a Finn.
For the Finns do like their privacy,
And lots of room to breathe.
They'll walk right up to a Viking chief
And tell him plain to leave.
Of those who learned the lesson quick
And hastened on their way,
Some settled in the eastern lands
And learned from Greeks to pray.
But when the Russians travel west
Their tempers tend to fray,
For those damn Finns are still right there,
And standing in their way!
So the Russians readily fight the Finns,
On far too many a day,
And the Finns will fight the Swedes and Danes
Come any small reason that may.
The Germans trade with all of them,
But if the time is right,
With Finn or Viking or Russian they
Are happy to have a fight.
So pray God help the southener
Who enters in the fray,
For else the fool has little chance
To see another day!
At painting, or dancing, or cookery,
The French or Italians will win.
But for feats of arms or martial might
Give me the northern kin;
A Russian, a German, or a Finn!
Rose
Ioseph of Derry
(Traditional verse in italics, as chorus)
Sir John he has a sickly wife.
He loves his Anne more dear than life.
There is no witness to their grief
But her sister, named Rose.
Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose,
Will I never see thee wed?
I will marry at thy wish,
Lord, at thy will.
The lady dies at an early date.
He buries her in great estate.
He has no one to ease his fate
But the servants and Rose. (Chorus)
He spends a year in mourning black;
His friends all whisper at his back.
His foes step softly, lest he attack:
He has no comfort but Rose. (Chorus)
His life resumes its former pace.
He has new lines upon his face,
But in the court takes up his place,
With his new ward, named Rose. (Chorus)
The ladies seek him for their lord.
The men pursue his pretty ward.
But his gaze on them is like a sword,
While gently smiles Rose. (Chorus)
His feelings take him by surprise.
His anger opens up his eyes
And causes him to realize
That what he wants is Rose. (Chorus)
He goes to her and bends his knee.
"I have been blind, but now I see.
O will you deign to marry me,
My sweet lady Rose?" (Chorus)
"Of course I will, you silly man.
It was my sister's dearest plan.
My love for you is deep and grand,
I'm your own lady Rose."
Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose,
Will I never see thee wed?
I will marry as thou willest,
Love, at thy will.
Sir Bertram
Ioseph of Derry
Sir Bertram was a fighter,
The mightiest of dukes.
He died for real on the tourney field,
And the marshalls cried, "Gadzooks!"
The marshalls cried, "Gadzooks!"
The marshalls cried, "Gadzooks!"
His chin strap broke and his skull did too,
And the marshalls cried, "Gadzooks!"
So Bertram went to Heaven.
He reached the Gates with ease,
Said, "May I speak with His Majesty?
I'm Duke Sir Bertram, please."
"I'm Duke Sir Bertram, please.
I'm Duke Sir Bertram, please.
I'd like a word with His Grace the King,
I'm Duke Sir Bertram, please."
"Who are you?" said St. Peter,
"Are you humble and contrite?"
"I'm a servant of the humble,
I'm a perfect gentil knight."
A perfect gentil knight,
A perfect gentil knight,
"It's quite a while," St. Peter cried,
"Since last we saw a knight."
They gave him wings and halo,
And a sword and shield of light,
So he rounded up the dearly departed
And he taught them how to fight.
He taught them how to fight.
He taught them how to fight.
Heaven was too darned peaceful,
So he taught them how to fight.
One day when God was walking
Back from early Mass,
Whom should he see but Bertram,
Holding tourney on the grass!
Holding tourney on the grass,
Tourney on the grass,
Angels and the warrior dead
In tourney on the grass.
St. Michael was the marshall,
St. Gabriel cried "Oyez!"
St. Patrick blessed the fighters
Ere they rushed off to the fray.
And did they rush off to the fray!
Oh boy they rushed off to the fray!
The Irish and the English dead
Had quite a grand melée!
"What do you think you're doing?"
The Lord God bid them say.
"Your fighting's done, your race is won,
You're here to sing and pray."
"You're here to sing and pray,
You're here to sing and pray.
Every woman, child, and man
(Spoken) —And where'd you get rattan?!"
So Bertram went on trial
Before the Holy Ghost,
For spreading disaffection
Amongst the heavenly host.
Amongst the heavenly host,
Amongst the heavenly host,
St. Raphael took the stand and swore
Bert ruined the heavenly host.
The verdict it was "Guilty".
The good duke said, "Ah, well."
He jammed his helmet on his head,
And he drifted down to Hell.
He drifted down to Hell.
He drifted down to Hell.
With tourney armor and duct-taped sword
He drifted down to Hell.
Now seven long years have passed,
And Bertie's doing swell:
He's won the first Crown Tourney
Of a kingdom there in Hell!
A kingdom there in Hell,
A kingdom there in Hell,
He's won the first Crown Tourney
Of the SGU in Hell!
The moral of this story
Is easy for to tell:
If you want to be a medievalist
You'll have to go to Hell.
Yes, we'll have to go to Hell.
We'll all have to go to Hell.
Heaven's ways are set in stone,
But they still have kings in Hell!
Western Wind
Ioseph of Derry
(Traditional verse in italics as chorus)
Western wind, when wilt thou blow,
The small rain down can rain.
O that my love were in my arms,
And I in my bed again!
A knight stares over the battlement,
His thoughts many miles away.
A wind whips the lake waters into foam,
And Finnish skies are gray
As he dreams of a younger day. (Chorus)
Sigurd took up the cross and swore
He'd sail to Jerusalem.
Eighty ships he filled with Norse,
With Danes and stout Saxon men,
And just for luck, one Finn. (Chorus)
Outre-Mer is a very strange place
At the end of the Middle Sea:
The sun can kill, the camels are mean,
The fruits are a mystery.
But the Finn found his destiny. (Chorus)
Secret meetings beneath the moon,
The doves murmur in their sleep.
Saracen lips were soft and warm,
And Saracen kisses deep.
The memories make him weep. (Chorus)
Then fell Sidon to siege and sack;
The swords drank deep in Tyre.
But when he sought her father's house,
To fight for his dear desire,
He found only ruin and fire! (Chorus)
Home through Russia the Norsemen go,
They left their ships for the King.
Sigurd asked him along for luck,
King Baldwin begged him sing.
But he's sick of everything. (Chorus)
He sees her face in the shining Moon,
He spies her grace in the swan.
His dreams are filled with her perfume,
He feels the lips that are gone.
He dreads and welcomes the dawn! (Chorus)
Traditional Songs
The Agincourt Carol
1415
Our king went forth to Normandy,
With grace and might of chivalry;
The God for him wrought marvelously,
Wherefore England may call and cry
Deo gratias!
Deo gratias, Anglia, redde pro victoria!
He set a siege, the sooth for to say,
To Harfleur town with royal array;
That town he won, and made a fray,
That France shall rue till Doomsday.
Deo gratias, etc.
Then went our king, with all his host,
Through France for all the French boast;
He spared for dread of least, nor most,
Until he came to Agincourt coast.
Deo gratias, etc.
Then for sooth that knight comely
In Agincourt field he fought mainly;
Through grace of God most mighty
He had both the field, and the victory.
Deo gratias, etc.
There dukes, and earls, lords and barons,
Were taken, and slain, and that well soon;
And some were led into London
With joy, and mirth, and great reknown.
Deo gratias, etc.
Now gracious God he save our king,
His people, and all his well willing,
Give him good life, and good ending,
That we with mirth may safely sing
Deo gratias, etc.
Belle Qui Tiens
English translation by Neill of Kintyre
Belle, qui tiens ma vie
Captive dans tes yeux,
Qui m'as l'âme ravie
D'un souris gracieux
Viens tôt me secourir
Ou me faudra mourir.
|
Beauty, who holds my life
A captive in thy eyes,
Who hath my soul enraptured
With but a gracious smile,
Come soon and rescue me
Or I will surely die.
|
Porquois fuis-tu, mignarde,
Si je suis pres de toi,
Quand tes yeux je regarde
Je me perds dedans moi,
Car tes pefections
Changent mes actions.
|
Why dost thou flee, my dainty,
When I am near to thee?
When I behold thy eyes,
I'm lost within myself,
Because thy perfection
Inspires my actions.
|
Ta beauté et tes grâces
Et ton divin propos
Ont échauffé la glace
Qui me gelait les os,
Ils ont rempli mon coeur
D'une amoureuse ardeur.
|
Thy beauty and thy grace,
And thy divine intent,
Have thawed away the ice
My bones were frozen in.
They've filled my heart entire
With a loving heat and fire.
|
Mon ame voulait etre
Libre de passion,
Mais l'amour s'est fait maitre
De mes affections
Et a mis sous sa loi
Et mon coeur et ma foi.
|
My soul had wanted freedom
From passion's slavery,
But love became the master
Of my inconstancy,
And put my faith and heart
Under its regent art.
|
Approche-toi, ma belle,
Approche-toi, mon bien.
Ne me sois plus rebelle
Puisque mon coeur est tien.
Pour mon mal apaiser,
Donne-moi un baiser.
|
Come near to me, my beauty,
Come near to me, my dear.
Do not resist me further,
Because my heart is thine.
You turn my pain to bliss,
When you give me a kiss.
|
Je meurs, mon Angelette,
Je meurs en te baisant
Ta bouche tant doucette
Va mon bien ravissant
A ce coup mes esprits
Sont tous d'amour epris.
|
I die, my little angel,
I die when kissing thee.
Thy mouth, as sweet as honey,
My dear, entrances me.
That touch my soul sends high
On wings of love into the sky.
|
Plutot on verra l'onde
Contremont reculer,
Et plutot l'oeil du monde
Cessera de bruler,
Que l'amour qui m'epoint
Decroisse d'un seul point.
|
Sooner will every roller
Recoil to the sea,
Sooner will silver Luna
Give up her brillancy,
Than love will lose one bit
Of the hold it has on me.
No, love will never lose
A finger of its grip on me!
|
Early One Morning
Traditional
Early one morning, just as the sun was rising,
I heard a maiden singing in the valley below.
Oh, don't deceive me! Oh, never leave me!
How could you use a poor maiden so?
Oh gay is the garland and fresh are the roses,
I've culled a garden to bind upon my brow.
Oh, don't deceive me! Oh, never leave me!
How could you use a poor maiden so?
Remember the vows that you made to your Mary,
Remember the bower where you vowed to be true.
Oh, don't deceive me! Oh, never leave me!
How could you use a poor maiden so?
Thus sang the poor maiden her sorrows bewailing,
Thus sang the poor maiden in the valley below.
Oh, don't deceive me! Oh, never leave me!
How could you use a poor maiden so?
Gaudeamus Igitur
Traditional
Gaudeamus igitur, iuvenes dum sumus,
Gaudeamus igitur, iuvenes dum sumus!
Post iucundam iuventutem,
Post molestam senectutem,
Nos habebit humus.
Nos habebit humus!
Therefore let us rejoice, while we are young. (Repeated)
After agreeable youth,
After troublesome old age,
The earth shall have us. (Repeated)
Ubi sunt qui ante nos in mundo fuere? (2X)
Vadite ad superos
Transite in inferos
Hos si vis videre. (2X)
Where are those who were before us in the world? (Repeated)
Go to Heaven
Go to Hell
If you wish to see them. (Repeated)
Vita nostra brevis est, brevi finietur. (2X)
Venit mors velociter
Rapit nos atrociter
Nemini parcetur. (2X)
Our life is brief, it will be ended quickly. (Repeated)
Death comes quickly
He takes us fiercely
No one will be spared. (Repeated)
Vivat academia, vivant professores! (2X)
Vivat membrum quodlibet
Vivat membra quaelibet
Semper sint in flore. (2X)
Long live the school, long live the teachers! (Repeated)
Long live every male student
Long live every female student
May they always flower. (Repeated)
Vivant omnes virgines faciles, formosae. (2X)
Vivant et mulieres
Tenerae amabiles
Bonae laboriosae. (2X)
Long live all maidens easy and beautiful. (Repeated)
Long live also women,
Tender, lovable,
Good, hard-working. (Repeated)
Vivant et res publica et qui illam regit. (2X)
Vivat nostra civitas,
Maecenatum caritas
Quae nos hic protegit. (2X)
Long live both the republic and he who rules it. (Repeated)
Long live our city,
The charity of benefactors
Which protects us here. (Repeated)
Pereat tristitia, pereant osores. (2X)
Pereat diabolus,
Quivis antiburschius1
Atque irrisores. (2X)
May sadness perish, may haters perish. (Repeated)
May the devil perish,
Whoever's against our school,
And scoffers.2 (Repeated)
Greensleeves
Traditional; possibly by Henry VIII
Alas my love, you do me wrong,
To cast me off discourteously:
And I have loved you so long
Delighting in your company.
Chorus: Greensleeves was all my joy,
Greensleeves was my delight:
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my Lady Greensleeves.
I have been ready at your hand,
To grant whatever you would crave.
I have both waged life and land,
Your love and good will for to have.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
I bought three kerchers to thy head,
That were wrought fine and gallantly:
I kept thee both board and bed,
Which cost my purse well favouredly,
Greensleeves was all my ioy, etc.
I bought thee petticoats of the best,
The cloth so fine as might be:
I gave thee jewels for thy chest,
And all this cost I spent on thee.
Greensleeves was all my ioy, etc.
Thy smock of silk, both fair and white,
With gold embroidered gorgeously:
Thy petticoat of Sendall right:
And thus I bought thee gladly.
Greensleeves was all my ioy, etc.
Thy girdle of gold so red,
With pearls bedecked sumptuously:
The like no other lasses had,
And yet thou wouldst not love me,
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
Thy purse and eke thy gay gilt knives,
Thy pincase gallant to the eye:
No better wore the Burgesse wives,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
Thy crimson stockings all of silk,
With gold all wrought above the knee,
Thy pumps as white as was the milk,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
Thy gown was of the grossy green,
Thy sleeves of Satten hanging by:
Which made thee be our harvest Queen,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
Thy garters fringed with the gold,
And silver aglets hanging by,
Which made thee blithe for to behold,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
My gayest gelding I thee gave,
To ride wherever liked thee,
No Lady ever was so brave,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
My men were clothed all in green,
And they did ever wait on thee:
All this was gallant to be seen,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
They set thee up, they took thee down,
They served thee with humility,
Thy foot might not once touch the ground,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
For every morning when thou rose,
I sent thee dainties orderly:
To cheer thy stomach from all woes,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
Thou couldst desire no earthly thing.
But still thou hadst it readily:
Thy music still to play and sing,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
And who did pay for all this gear,
That thou didst spend when pleased thee?
Even I that am rejected here,
And thou disdainst to love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
Well, I will pray to God on high,
That thou my constancy mayst see:
And that yet once before I die,
Thou wilt vouchsafe to love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
Greensleeves now farewell adieu,
God I pray to prosper thee:
For I am still thy lover true,
Come once again and love me.
Greensleeves was all my joy, etc.
I Have A Yung Suster
Middle English, author unknown
I have a yong suster
Fer biyonde the see;
Manye be the druries
That she sente me.
She sente me the cherye
Withouten any stoon,
And so she dide the dove
Withouten any boon.
She sente me the brere
Withouten any rinde;
She bad me love my lemman
Withoute longinge.
How sholde any cherye
Be withoute stoon?
And how sholde any dove
Be withoute boon?
How sholde any brere
Be withoute rinde?
How sholde I love my lemman
Withoute longinge?
Whan the cherye was a flowr,
Thanne hadde it no stoon;
Whan the dove was an ey,
Thanne hadde it no boon.
Whan the brere was unbred,
Thanne hadde it no rinde;
Whan the maiden hath that she loveth,
She is withoute longinge.
In Taberna
(Carmina Burana 175)
In taberna quando sumus,
Non curamus quid sit humus,
Sed ad ludum properamus,
Cui semper insudamus.
Quid agatur in taberna,
Ubi nummus est pincerna,
Hoc est opus ut queratur,
Si quid loquar, audiatur.
When we're in the tavern,
We don't care what flesh we are,
But hasten to the game,
Which we always sweat about.
What's done in the tavern,
Where cash is the butler,
This is the work that must be questioned,
If I say it, it must be heard.
Quidam ludunt, quidam bibunt,
Quidam indiscrete vivunt.
Sed in ludo qui morantur,
Ex his quidam denudantur,
Quidam ibi vestiuntur,
Quidam saccis induuntur;
Ibi nullus timet mortem,
Sed pro Baccho mittunt sortem.
Some gamble, some drink,
Some live without discretion.
But of those who waste time gambling,
Some are stripped bare,
Some win clothes,
Some are dressed in sacks;
No one there fears death,
But for Bacchus they throw dice.
Primo pro nummata vini;
Ex hac bibunt libertini;
Semel bibunt pro captivis,
Post haec bibunt ter pro vivis,
Quater pro Christianis cunctis,
Quinquies pro fidelibus defunctis,
Sexies pro sororibus vanis,
Septies pro militibus silvanis.
First, for the payment of the wine;
Then the boozers start to drink;
They drink once to those in prison,
After that, three times for the living,
Four times for all Christendom,
Five times for the faithful departed,
Six times for sisters of loose virtue,
Seven times for soldiers of the forest.
Octies pro fratribus perversis,
Nonies pro monachis dispersis,
Decies pro navigantibus,
Undecies pro discordantibus,
Duodecies pro paenitentibus,
Tredecies pro iter agentibus.
Eight times for brothers in error,
Nine times for scattered monks,
Ten times for those who sail,
Eleven times for men quarrelling,
Twelve times for those doing penance,
Thirteen times for those on journeys.
Tam pro papa quam pro rege
bibunt omnes sine lege.
Bibit hera, bibit herus,
bibit miles, bibit clerus,
bibit ille, bibit illa,
bibit servus cum ancilla,
bibit velox, bibit piger,
bibit albus, bibit niger,
bibit constans, bibit vagus,
bibit rudis, bibit magus,
For pope and for king alike
All drink without restraint.
The mistress drinks, so does the master,
The soldier drinks, so does the cleric,
That man drinks, that woman drinks,
The servant drinks with the maid,
The fast man drinks, so does the slow,
The white man drinks, so does the black,
The stay-at-home drinks, so does the wanderer,
The fool drinks, so does the scholar.
Bibit pauper et aegrotus,
Bibit exul et ignotus,
Bibit puer, bibit canus,
Bibit presul et decanus,
Bibit soror, bibit frater,
Bibit anus, bibit mater,
Bibit ista, bibit ille,
Bibunt centum, bibit mille.
The poor man drinks and the sick man,
The exile drinks and the stranger too,
The boy drinks, the old man drinks,
The leader of the parade, the dean as well,
The sister drinks, the brother drinks,
The old woman drinks, the mother drinks,
That woman drinks, that man drinks,
Hundreds drink, a thousand drink.
Parum sescentae nummatae
Durant cum immoderate
Bibunt omnes sine meta,
Quamvis bibant mente laeta;
Sic nos rodunt omnes gentes,
Et sic erimus egentes.
Qui nos rodunt confundantur
Et cum iustis non scribantur.
Large sums of money
Last too short a time
When everybody drinks without limit,
Even though they drink with a happy mind;
Thus everyone sponges on us,
And it will make us poor.
Let those who sponge on us be damned
And let them not be written in the book of the Just.
It Was A Lover And His Lass
Thomas Morley
It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino
That o'er the green cornfields did pass.
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding a ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
Between the acres of the rye,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
These pretty country folks would lie,
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding a ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
This carol they began that hour,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
How that a life was but a flower
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding a ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
And therefore take the present time
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
For love is crownéd with the prime
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding a ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
Lavendar's Blue
Traditional
Lavendar's blue, dilly dilly,
Lavendar's green.
When I am King, dilly dilly,
You shall be Queen.
Who told you so, dilly dilly,
Who told you so?
'Twas my own heart, dilly dilly,
That told me so.
The Riddle Song
Traditional
I gave my love a cherry without a stone.
I gave my love a chicken without a bone.
I gave my love a story that has no end.
I gave my love a baby with no cryin'.
How can there be a cherry without a stone?
How can there be a chicken without a bone?
How can there be a story that has no end?
How can there be a baby with no cryin'?
A cherry in the blossom, it has no stone.
A chicken in the yolk, it has no bone.
The story of 'I love her', it has no end.
A baby when it's sleeping, has no cryin'.
Scarborough Fair
Traditional
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
Remember me to one who lives there;
She once was a true love of mine.
Have her make me a cambric shirt
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
Without a seam or fine needle work,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
And gather it all with a basket of flowers,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Have her wash it in yonder dry well
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
Where water ne'er sprang nor drop of rain fell,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Have her find me an acre of land
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
Between the sea foam and over the sand,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Plow the land with the horn of a lamb
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
And gather it all in a bunch of heather,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
If she tells me she can't, then I will reply
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
At least let me know that she did try,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Love imposes impossible tasks,
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
Though not more than any heart asks
And I must know she's a true love of mine.
Dear, when thou hast finished thy task
(Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme)
Come to me, my hand for to ask,
For thou then art a true love of mine.
See, See, Mine Own Sweet Jewel
Thomas Morley, 1593
See, see, mine own sweet jewel,
See what I have for my darling.
A robin red breast and a starling,
These I give in hope to move thee,
Yet thou sayest I do not love thee.
Sumer Is Icumen In
Traditional; about 1250 A.D.
Sumer is icumen in,
Lhude sing, cuccu!
Groweth sed and bloweth med
And springth the wude nu.
Sing, cuccu!
Awe bleteth after lomb,
Lhouth after calve cu.
Bulloc sterteth, bucke ferteth,
Murie sing, cuccu!
Cuccu, cuccu,
Wel singes thu, cuccu,
Ne swik thu naver nu!
Summer is a-coming in,
Loudly sing, cuckoo!
Groweth seed and bloweth mead
And springeth the wood now.
Sing, cuckoo!
Ewe bleateth after lamb,
Low'th after calf the cow.
Bullock starteth, buck he leapeth,
Merry sing, cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo,
Well singest thou, cuckoo,
Nor cease thou never now!
Three Ravens
First recorded in Melismata, 1611, but obviously much older
There were three ravens in a tree,
Down a down hey down a down,
There were three ravens in a tree,
With a down.
There were three ravens in a tree,
They were as black as black might be,
With a down, derry derry derry down down.
The one of them said to his mate,
What shall we for our breakfast take?
Out in yonder greene field,
A knight lies slain under his shield.
His hawks they fly so eagerly,
There is no fowl dare him come nigh.
His hounds they lie down at his feet,
So well they do their master keep.
Now there comes a fallow doe,
As great with child as she might go.
She lifted up his bloody head,
And kissed his wounds that were so red.
She took him up upon her back,
And carried him to earthen lac.
She buried him before the Prime,
She was dead herself ere Vesper time.
God grant every gentleman
Such hawks, such hounds, and such leman!
To Celia
Ben Jonson, 1616
Drink to me only with thine eyes
And I will pledge with mine.
Or leave a kiss within the cup
And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine:
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much hon'ring thee
As giving it a hope that there
It could not withered be;
But thou thereon did'st only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me,
Since when it grows and smells, I swear
Not of itself, but thee.
Vaga Fanciulla
Francesco Landini, 14th Century A.D.
Vaga fanciulla, leggiadr' e vezzosa,
ognor ringrazio Amore,
c'ha la mia ment'e 'l core
fatto fedel di tua visa piatosa.
Con tuo belleza e con gli ochi tuo vaghi
la mie pen'amorosa, ch'ognor sento,
e 'l mio infiamato petto sempre apaghi,
convertendo in riposo tai tormento.
D'ogni doglia, et se piu, son contento
e d'esser tuo fedele,
poi che non se' crudele
a darmi di tuo vista dolce posa.
(Lovely girl, fair and comely,
I always thank Love,
who has made my mind and heart
devoted to your merciful presence.
With your beauty and with your lovely eyes
my amorous pangs and my passionate breast
you always appease,
Converting into repose such torment.
Every pain and sigh makes me content
to be thy faithful servant
since you are not cruel,
and give me with your sight sweet peace.)
The Water Is Wide
Traditional
The water is wide, I can't get o'er,
Neither have I the wings to fly.
Give me a boat that can carry two,
And we both shall row, my love and I.
I put my hand in a rosy bush,
Thinking the sweetest flower to find.
I pricked my finger to the bone,
And left the sweetest flower behind.
O love is warm, when love is new,
And love's a jewel when it is true.
But love grows old, and waxes cold,
And fades away like morning dew.
A ship there is, she sails the sea,
She's loaded deep as deep can be.
But not so deep as the love I'm in,
I know not how I sink or swim.
I leaned my back against an oak,
Thinking it was a trusty tree.
But first it bent, and then it broke,
And so my love proved false to me.
Must I go bound while you go free?
Must I love a lass who loves not me?
Was then I born with so little art
As to love a lass who'll break my heart?
When cockle shells turn silver bells,
Then will my love come back to me.
When roses bloom in winter's gloom,
Then will my love return to me.
We Be Soldiers Three
Traditional
We be soldiers three,
Pardonnez-mois, je vous en prie,
Lately come forth from the Low Country,
With never a penny of money.
Here, good fellows, I drink to thee,
Pardonnez-mois, je vous en prie,
To all good fellows, wherever they be,
With never a penny of money.
Here, good fellows, I'll sing you a song,
Sing for the brave and sing for the strong,
To all those living and all who have gone,
With never a penny of money.
And he that will not pledge me this
Pardonnez-mois, je vous en prie,
Pays for the shot, whatever it is,
With never a penny of money.
This appendix copyright © 2004 by Green Sky Press. All rights reserved.
