Fair Annie- Sam Henry (Coleraine) c.1860
Sam Henry and "Songs of the People"
by Dave Kilkerr
RevieFolk Music Journal, Vol. 3, No. 3 (1977), pp. 208-232Published by:
FAIR ANNIE (No. 126) Child 62. Sam Henry estimates that the ballad as given here has been transmitted orally from at least the latter half of the eighteenth century. Bronson notes that all of the tunes he collected are very late, and the tune here may pre-date the ones given by him.
Oh, comb your hair, fair Annie, he said,
and comb it down your neck,
And try and look as maiden-like,
As the day that first we met.
Make your one bed, Annie, he said,
And learn to lie your lone,
For I am going across the salt sea,
A new bride to bring home.
A brighter bride than me, she said,
I thought there ne'er was none;
I thought I had two of the cherriest cheeks
The e'er the sun shone on.
He put his foot on the ship board,
The ship unto the main;
It will be a year and a long day,
Before I return again.
A year and a long day was past,
Annie began to think long,
And stepping up to her garret so high,
She viewed her lands all round.
She looking East, she looking West,
She looking beneath the sun,
There she saw her Henry dear,
And a new bride bringing home.
I will not call him Henry dear,
For fear to harm his bride;
I shall call him Master Henry,
Let the words be good or tide.
She calling up her seven sons,
By one, by two, by three,
I wish that you were seven greyhounds
This day to worry me.
She calling up her seven sons,
By one, by two, by three,
Yonder's your own dear father, she said,
And a stepmother over thee.
I will take off my purple robe,
And put on a suit of pall;
I will go down to yonder sea.
And drown myself withal.
You will not take off your purple robe,
Or put on a suit of pall;
We will go down to yonder castle,
And welcome the nobles all.
She welcomed them up and she welcomed them down,
With liquor and strong ale,
And she drank at the cold, cold water,
To keep her colours pale.
Oh, who will bake my wedding cake,
Or who will brew my ale?
Or who will clothe my seven sons
And send them to their schale?
I shall bake your wedding cake,
I shall brew your ale,
And I shall clothe your seven sons
And send them to their schale.
For to welcome a new bride home,
I doubt my heart will fail
She put the flute unto her mouth,
And she blew loud and shrill.
What ails you, fair Annie, fair Annie,
That you make such a grievous moan,
It is like the moan of our Fair Annie,
Was stolen when she was born.
What did they call your father, she said,
Or what did they call your mother,
Or had you ever a sister dear,
Or had you ever a brother?
King Henry was my father, she said,
Queen Esther was my mother;
Queen Ellen was my sister, she said,
And King Charles was my brother.
If King Henry is your father, she said,
And Queen Esther is your mother,
And King Charles is your brother, she said
Sure, I must be the other.
Come into your bed, Fair Annie, she said,
You are nothing the worse of me,
Seven ships I have brought with me
And four I am taking away,
And if ever he come to our countree,
Hanged shall he be.