Pretty Colendee- MS. of M. J. P., Peoria, Ill., native of Fulton, Mo. Folk-Songs of the North Atlantic States
[First appears as version E, in Barry's 1908 book, Folk-Songs of the North Atlantic States. Taken from: Irish Folk-Song by Phillips Barry The Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 24, No. 93 (Jul. - Sep., 1911), pp. 332-343; MS. of M. J. P., Peoria, Ill., native of Fulton, Mo. Footnote added at the end.
The names Polly, Colendee, Colvin, Collean, Collenendee, Goldan, Goldin, are generic slang words for the Irish word, cailin, meaning "girl," "girlfriend" or "lover." (Barry 1909)
R. Matteson 2011, 2014]
PRETTY COLENDEE- "Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight," E, Folk-Songs of the North Atlantic States. MS. of M. J. P., Peoria, Ill., native of Fulton, Mo.
1. "Mount up, mount up, my pretty Colendee,
Mount up, mount up!" said he,
"And I will take you away to the far Scotland,
And there I'll marry thee, thee, thee,
And there I'll marry thee."
2. She mounted upon her little pony brown,
And he rode the dapple gray,
And they rode and rode through the merry green woods
Till they came to the side of the sea.
3. "Light off, light off, my pretty Colendee,
Light off, light off!" said he,
"For six kings' daughters I have drowned here,
And the seventh you shall be!"
4. "Oh, turn your back, Lord Mullen," she said,
" And walk close to the sea,
That I may have a moment to pray,
For the Lord to save poor me!"
5. He bowed and smiled sarcastically,
And walked close to the sea,
She quickly knelt and humbly prayed,
"Oh, Lord, do strengthen me!"
6. Then summing all her courage up,
Said, "Lord, I trust in Thee!"
And picked him up most manfully,
And threw him into the sea.
7. "Oh, hand me your hand, my pretty Colendee,
And help me out of here,
And I'll take you away to the far Scotland,
And there I'll marry thee!"
8. "Lie there, lie there, you false-hearted wretch,
Lie there in place of me,
For if six kings' daughters you have drowned here,
The seventh drowned thee!"
9. She mounted upon her little pony brown,
And led the dapple gray,
And rode till she came to her father's palace,
Just three long hours before day.
10. "Now hold your tongue, my pretty Polly,
And tell no tales on me,
And your cage shall be lined with pure yellow gold,
And hung in the willow tree!"[1]
11. Her father awoke all in a fright,
And unto his daughter did say,
"Why is it, my dear Colen," he said,
"You have rose so long before day?"
12. "Oh, the cat she came to my cage window door,
And threatened to devour me,
And (I) called up my pretty Colendee,
To drive the cat away."
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Footnote:
1. Another Irish version (K, from M. A. K., Boston, Mass.) has the curious variant,-
"Oh, hush, oh, hush, my bonny parrot,
Oh, hush you must for me,
To-day you got but one handful of grots,
To-morrow you shall have threel"