Author Topic: Add: Frenet Ha\'

This was started as part of the John Barleycorn Thread but I\'ve opted to start a new thread with Jack Campin\'s contribution. Thanks Jack.

Guest Account
Posted - 24 Jan 05 - 02:42 pm

From: Jack Campin

> Do you have "Frenet Ha" amongst your abc collections that we could give as an
> example?

X:1
T:Frenet Ha'
Z:Jack Campin <http://www.purr.demon.co.uk/jack/>
C:Bauldie Scrimezour
S:John Hamilton, 24 Songs, 1796
M:3/4
L:1/8
Q:1/4=60 "Slow & Moving"
K:GMin
(D^F)|G2 G2 A c| d4 (d/=e/f)|(dc) (BA) G c|({B}A4)
(G^F)|G2 (GA) B> c| d4 (d/=e/f)|(dc) (BA) G ^F| G4||
(d>f)|g2 g2 a> g|(f>d) d2 (d/=e/f)|(dc) (BA) G> c|({B}A4)
(G^F)|G2 (GA) B> c| d2 d2 (d/=e/f)|(dc) (BA) G ^F| G4|]

Quhair wile I lay my hede,
Quhair lay my bodie doune,
Qhairfor na am I died,
Sen' wandrin' I bene bown;
O! Marie ze war fairer
than ony goud or gear;
O! bot my hert is sairer
than't has bene mony zeir.

O! blythsom was the wi time,
That I hae spent wi thee,
Aft kiss't that cheik o' thyne,
As ze sat on my knee.
But cauld's thy bodie now Marie,
O! dull thy blinkin' E'e,
Quhairfor do I here tarry,
An' canna win to thee.

He sat doune on a stane,
His hame was far awa;
He sicht an' made a mane,
An sicht O! Frenet Ha'.
Syne drew his schairp Sword frae its shethe,
It gleitert wi' the Sun,
An ay he cry'd dear Mary,
My Love to thee I come.

(2 more verses added by editor).

Note, the bit Scrimezour wrote or collected ends halfway through the third verse.
The rest is nowhere near as good.

The tune was printed as "John Knox" by Nathaniel Gow, in F minor.

Hamilton's collection is also the source for the earliest text of "Braes of
Balquhidder"/"Wild Mountain Thyme" - i.e. well before Tannahill's version
and 150 years before the McPeakes (and the song is at least 50 years older,
though only the tune was printed back then). Bruce Olson posted my
transcription of it to Mudcat.






dmcg

Posted - 24 Jan 05 - 03:13 pm

Definitely one I will have to learn!




masato sakurai

Posted - 25 Jan 05 - 02:30 pm

From James Johnson's The Scots Musical Museum (1853 ed.; Folklore Associates reprint, vol. 1, 1962, no. 286). The first two e/4's are not given naturals.

X:1
T:Frennett Hall
M:3/4
L:1/8
K:Bb
(D3/2^F/)|G2 G2 A3/2 c/|d3/2 d/ d2 (d3/2e/4f/4)|dc BA G3/2 c/|
w:When_ Fren-nett castle's_ iv-ied wa's Thro'__ yal - low_ leaves were
{B2}A4 (G3/2^F/)|G3/2 G/ (G3/2A/) (B3/2c/)|d3/2 d/ d2 (d3/2e/4f/4)|d c (BA) (G^F)|
w:seen; When_ birds for-sook_ the_ sap-less boughs, And__ bees the fad - ed_
{^F}G4||d3/2f/|g3/2 g/ g2 (a3/2g/)|{g}f3/2 d/ d2 (d3/2=e/4f/4)|dc BA G3/2 c/|
w:green; Then_ La-dy Fren-net,_ venge-ful dame, Did__ wan - der_ frae the
{B2}A4 G3/2 ^F/|G2 (G3/2A/) (B3/2c/)|d3/2 d/ d2 (d3/2=e/4f/4)|d c BA G^F|G4|]
w:ha', To the wild for - est's_ dew-ie gloom, A_- mong the leaves_ that_ fa'.

Frennett Hall

When Frennett castle's ivied wa's
Thro' yallow leaves were seen;
When birds forsook the sapless boughs,
And bees the faded green;
Then Lady Frennet, vengeful dame,
Did wander frae the ha',
To the wild forest's dewie gloom,
Among the leaves that fa'.

Her page, the swiftest of her train,
Had clumb a lofty tree,
Whase branches to the lofty blast,
Were soughing mournfullie:
He turn'd his een towards the path
That near the castle lay,
Where good lord John and Rothemay
Were rideing down the brae.

Swift darts the eagle from the sky,
When prey beneath is seen;
As quickly he forgot his hold,
And perch'd upon the green:
O hie thee, hie thee! Lady gay,
Frae this dark wood awa:
Some visitors of gallant mein
Are hasting to the ha'.

Then round she rowed her silken plaid,
Her feet she did na spare,
Until she left the forest skirts
A lang bow-shot and mair.
O where, O where, my good lord John,
O tell me where you ride?
Within my castle-wall this night
I hope you mean to bide.

Kind noblers, will ye but alight,
In yonder bower to stay;
Saft ease shall teach you to forget
The hardness of the way.
Forbear entreaty, gentle dame,
How can we here remain?
Full well you ken your husband dear
Was by our father slain.

The thoughts of which with fell revenge
Your angry bosom swell:
Enraged you've sworn that blood for blood
Should this black passion quell.
O fear not, fear not, good lord John,
That I will you betray,
Or sue requittal for a debt
Which nature cannot pay.

Bear witness a' ye powers on high,
Ye lights that 'gin to shine,
This night shall prove the sacred cord
That knits your faith and mine.
The lady slee with honeyed words
Entic'd thir youths to stay:
But morning sun nere shone upon
Lord John nor Rothemay.








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