Below the Salt

One morning in the month of June,
As from my cot' I strayed.
Just at the dawning of the day
I met with a charming maid.
'Good morning you, whither? ' said I,
'Good morning to you now',
The maid replied, 'kind sir' she cried,
'i’ve lost my spotted cow'.
'No longer weep, no longer mourn,
Your cow’s not lost my dear,
I saw her down in yonder grove,
Come love and I’ll show you where'.
'i must confess you’re very kind,
I thank you sir, ' said she,
'We will be sure her there to find,
Come sweetheart, go with me'.
And in the grove they spent the day,
They thought it passed too soon,
At night they homeward bent their way,
While brightly shone the moon.
If he should cross the flowery dale,
Or go to view the plough,
She comes and calls, 'You gentle swain,
I’ve lost my spotted cow

It’s a rosebud in June and the violets in full bloom,
And the small birds are singing love songs on each spray.
[Chorus:]
We’ll pipe and we’ll sing love,
We’ll dance in a ring love,
When each lad takes his lass
All on the green grass,
And it’s oh to plough where the fat oxen graze low,
And the lads and the lasses do sheep shearing go.
[Chorus:]
When we have all sheared our jolly, jolly sheep,
What joy can be greater than to talk of their increase.
[Chorus:]
Their flesh it is good, it’s the best of all food,
And their wool it will cloth us and keep our backs from the cold.
[Chorus:]
Here’s the ewes and the lambs, here’s the hogs and the rams,
And the fat wethers too they will make a fine show.
(chorus)

Here’s my sheep-crook and my black dog,
I give it to you,
Here’s my bag and my budget,
I bid it adieu,
Here’s my sheep-crook and my black dog
I leave them behind,
Fine laurel, fine floral,
You’ve proved all unkind.
All to my dear Dinah these words did I say,
Tomorrow we’ll be married love, tomorrow is the day
'Tis too soon dear Willy, my age is too young,
One day to our wedding is one day too soon.
I’ll go into service if the day ain’t to late,
To wait on a fine lady, it is my intent,
And when into service a year or two bound,
It’s then we’ll get married and both settle down.
A little time after a letter was wrote,
To see if my Dinah had changed here mind,
But she wrote that she’s led such a contrary life,
She said that she’d never be a young shepherd’s wife.
Here’s my sheep-crook and my black dog,
I give it to you,
Here’s my bag and my budget,
I bid it adieu,
Here’s my sheep-crook and my black dog
I leave them behind,
Fine laurel, fine floral,
You’ve proved all unkind

Let never a man a wooing wend
That lacketh things three,
A store of gold, and open heart,
And full of charity;
And this was seen of King Henry
Though he lay quite alone,
For he’s taken him to a haunted hall
Seven miles from the town.
He’s chased the deer now him before
And the doe down by the den
Till the fattest buck in all the flock
King Henry he has slain.
His huntsmen followed him to the hall
To make them burly cheer,
When loud the wind was heard to sound
And an earthquake rocked the floor.
And darkness covered all the hall
Where they sat at their meat,
The grey dogs, yowling, left their food
And crept to Henry’s feet.
And louder howled the rising wind
And burst the fastened door,
And in there came a grisly ghost
Stramping on the floor.
Her head hit the roof-tree of the house,
Her middle you could not span,
Each frightened huntsman fled the hall
And left the king alone,
Her teeth were like the tether stakes,
Her nose like club or mell,
And nothing less she seemed to be
Than a fiend that comes form hell.
Some meat, some meat you King Henry,
Some meat you give to me,
Go kill your horse you King Henry
And bring him here to me;
He’s gone and slain his berry brown steed
Though it made his heart full sore,
For she’s eaten up both skin and bone
Left nothing but hide and hair.
More meat, more meat you King Henry
More meat you give to me,
Go Kill your greyhounds King Henry
And bring them here to me;
And when he’s slain his good greyhounds,
It made his heart full sore,
She’s eaten them up both skin and bone,
Left nothing but hide and hair.
More meat, more meat you King Henry
More meat you give to me,
Go fell your goshawks King Henry
And bring them here to me;
And when he’s slain his gay goshawks,
It made his heart full sore,
She’s eaten them up both skin and bone,
Left nothing but feathers bare.
Some drink, some drink now King Henry
Some drink you give to me,
Oh you sew up your horse’s hide
And bring in a drink to me,
And he’s sewed up the bloody hide
And a pipe of wine put in,
And she’s drank it up all in one draught
Left never a drop therein.
A bed, a bed now King Henry,
A bed you’ll make for me,
Oh you must pull the heather green
And make it soft for me;
And pulled has he the heather green
And made for her a bed,
And taken has he his gay mantle
And o’er it he has spread.
Take off your clothes now King Henry
And lie down by my side,
Now swear, now swear you King Henry
To take me for your bride.
Oh God forbid, says King Henry,
That ever the like betide,
That ever a fiend that comes from hell
Should stretch down by my side.
When the night was gone and the day was come
And the sun shone through the hall,
The fairest lady that ever was seen
Lay between him and the wall.
I’ve met with many a gentle knight
That gave me such a fill,
But never before with a courteous knight
That gave me all my will

Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Tempus ad est gratiae hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina laetitiae devote redamus.
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Deus homo factus est naturam erante,
Mundus renovatus est a Christo regnante.
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Ezecheelis porta clausa per transitor
Unde lux est orta sallus invenitor.
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Ergo nostra contio psallat jam in lustro,
Benedicat domino sallas regi nostro.
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.

There were three men
Came from the west
Their fortunes for to tell,
And the life of John Barleycorn
As well
They laid him three furrows deep,
Laid clods upon his head,
The these three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn was dead.
They let him die for a very long time
Till the rain from heaven did fall,
Then little Sir John sprang up his head
And he did amaze them all.
They let him stand till the midsummer day,
Till he looked both pale and wan.
Then little Sir John he grew a long beard
And so became a man.
They have hired men with the scythes so sharp
To cut him off at the knee,
They rolled and they tied him around the waist,
The served him barbarously.
They have hired men with the crab-tree sticks,
To cut him skin from bone,
And the miller he has served him worse than that,
For he’s ground him between two stones.
They’ve wheeled him here, they’ve wheeled him there,
They’ve wheeled him to a barn,
And they have served him worse than that,
They’ve bunged him in a vat.
They have worked their will on John Barleycorn
But he lived to tell the tale,
For they pour him out of an old brown jug
And they call him home brewed ale.

Come me own one, come me fair one,
Come now unto me
Could you fancy a poor sailor lad
Who has just come from sea?

You are ragged love, and you’re dirty love
And your clothes smell much of tar
So be gone you saucy sailor lad
So be gone you Jack Tar

If I’m ragged love, and I’m dirty love
And me clothes smell much of tar
I have silver in me pockets love,
And gold in great store.

And when she heard him say so
On her bended knees she fell
"I will marry my dear henry, for I love sailor lad so well."

Do you think that I am foolish love?
Do you think that I am mad?
For to wed with a poor country girl
Where no fortunes to be had

I will cross the briney ocean
I will whistle and sing
And since you have refused the offer love
Some other girl will wear the ring

I am frolicsome and I am easy,
Good tempered and free
And I don’t give a single pin me boys
What the world thinks of me.