| Author | Topic: Add: My Own Pretty Boy | |
| dmcg | Posted - 11 Oct 04 - 09:15 am | |
O where are you roaming this long weary day? I am waiting by the water down here at the bay. Where the wind and the waves seem to whisper of joy While I wait and I long for my own pret-ty boy. You told me you loved me down here by the bay, And then with the flood-tide your boat sailed away, Now darkness has fallen, the boats are all home; But my own pretty boy is afar on the foam. You promised me riches and dresses so fine, And a little white cottage and all to be mine, Now the waves seem to mock all my joy, As I wait here and long for my own pretty boy. Source: Singing Together, Spring 1968, BBC Publications | ||
| Malcolm Douglas |
Posted - 12 Oct 04 - 02:23 am | |
No source information, then? On the face of it, this looks like a modern set of words written to a Lord Randal tune; and the melody is very close indeed to two in Bronson (vol I, 12.60 and 12.61, p 212), Where were you all the day, my own pretty boy. Both came from Patrick Weston Joyce; the first "sung by Peggy Cudmore c. 1848", and printed with 4 verses in P W Joyce, Old Irish Folk Music and Songs, 1909, no 812, 394-95; the second (tune only) in Stanford-Petrie, 1902-5, no 330. Of the latter, Bronson comments "It seems odd that this copy, so similar to Peggy Cudmore's in [all] but mode, also came from Dr Joyce. We may perhaps suspect editorial revision by Petrie or Stanford." In the absence of more specific information, I'd guess that this is Peggy Cudmore's set with new words grafted onto it by somebody or other. A pity, really; the original was more fun. | ||
| dmcg | Posted - 12 Oct 04 - 08:05 am | |
No, no source information was provided in the booklet for this song. The 'Singing Together' series is very variable in that respect: some issues are relatively precise, others say almost nothing. In this case it simply states 'Irish Song'. I must admit that the tune struck me as unusually complex for the "Singing Together" booklets. | ||
| Malcolm Douglas |
Posted - 12 Oct 04 - 03:37 pm | |
Peggy Cudmore's tune, then, I expect. I'll try to post the material from Bronson when I have some time. | ||
| Malcolm Douglas |
Posted - 13 Oct 04 - 02:34 am | |
For a start, here is the text. Where were you all the day, my own pretty boy? Where were you all the day, my truelove and joy? I was fishing and fowling: mother, dress my bed soon; There's a pain in my heart, and I want to lie down. What did you get for dinner, my own pretty boy? What did you get for dinner, my truelove and joy? Bread, mutton, and poison: mother, dress my bed soon; There's a pain in my heart, and I want to lie down. What will you leave your mother, my own pretty boy? What will you leave your mother, my truelove and joy? A coach and four horses: mother, dress my bed soon; There's a pain in my heart, and I want to lie down. What will you leave your married wife, my own pretty boy? What will you leave your married wife, my truelove and joy? A long rope to hang her: mother, dress my bed soon; There's a pain in my heart, and I want to lie down. P W Joyce, Old Irish Folk Music and Songs, 1909, no 812, 394-95. Sung by Peggy Cudmore, c. 1848. As I said, more fun than the new set of words, whoever was responsible for them. | ||