The Gypsy Daisy- Couchey (NY) 1957 Porter
[From Lee Knight's "Adirondack Ballads and Folk Song - From Lumberwoods, Iron Mines, and Communities (2005). "Songs from the Collection of Historian Marjorie Lansing Porter." His notes follow.
This is Lee Knight's singing of "The Gypsy Daisy" based on a version collected by Porter which is a unique merging of the beginning of "The Gyspy Davey" and the ending of "The House Carpenter." Lee Knight got this song from the collection of Marjorie Lansing Porter. She collected this version "from the singing of Alec Couchey of Essex NY, August 30, 1957."
R. Matteson 2013]
Knight's Notes: "The ballad merges two of the Child Ballads, The Gypsy Davey with The House Carpenter. It also includes a verse from Lord Thomas and Fair Annet (Child 73): 'She dressed herself in rich array....' This is probably a family version since there is a similar text in Mrs Porter's notes attributed to Ora James, sister of Alec." Here is "The Gypsy Daisy." It is sung to the tune of "The Gypsy Davey."
The Gypsy Daisy
The Gypsy came tripping o'er the hill,
The Gypsy sang so gaily,
He made the wide, wide wind blow,
And he won the heart of a lady.
Will you forsake your house and farm?
Will you forsake your baby?
Will you forsake your house carpenter
To roam with the Gypsy Daisy?
If I forsake my house and farm,
If I forsake my baby,
If I forsake my house carpenter,
To roam with the Gypsy Daisy.
Have you anything to maintain me upon
And keep me from my slavery?
I have a hundred ships that are out at sea,
All making for dry land,
With two hundred and ten bold jolly sailor men
Who will be at your command.
I will take you to where the grass grows green
On the banks of the sweet Willie.
Then I'll forsake my house and farm,
Then I'll forsake my baby.
And I'll forsake my house carpenter
To roam with the Gypsy Daisy.
Last night I slept on a warm feather bed,
Along with my landlord and baby.
Tonight I'll sleep on the cold, cold ground
Beside the Gypsy Daisy.
She dressed herself in rich array,
And riches to behold.
And every street that she passed through,
She showed her glittering gold.
They had not been at sea but about two weeks,
I'm sure it was not three.
When this young maid began to weep
Then wept most bitterly.
Is it for my gold that you weep,
Or is it for my store?
Or is it for the house carpenter
You never will see any more.
It is not for your gold I weep,
Nor is it for your store.
But it's all for the love of the darling little babe,
That I never will see any more.
They had not been at sea about three weeks,
I'm sure it was not four.
When the ship sprang a leak and she sank in the sea
And she sank to rise no more.
Bad luck, bad luck to all sea-faring maids,
Bad luck to all their lives,
But it's robbing of the house carpenter
And the stealing of their wives.