Ancient Poems [28]
feasts, can certainly set up a better claim to antiquity than any of the three ballads on the same subject to be found in Evans's OLD BALLADS; viz., JOHN BARLEYCORN, THE LITTLE BARLEYCORN, and MAS MAULT. Our west-country version bears the greatest resemblance to THE LITTLE BARLEYCORN, but it is very dissimilar to any of the three. Burns altered the old ditty, but on referring to his version it will be seen that his corrections and additions want the simplicity of the original, and certainly cannot be considered improvements. The common ballad does not appear to have been inserted in any of our popular collections. SIR JOHN BARLEYCORN is very appropriately sung to the tune of STINGO. See POPULAR MUSIC, p. 305.]
THERE came three men out of the West, Their victory to try; And they have taken a solemn oath, Poor Barleycorn should die.
They took a plough and ploughed him in, And harrowed clods on his head; And then they took a solemn oath, Poor Barleycorn was dead.
There he lay sleeping in the ground, Till rain from the sky did fall: Then Barleycorn sprung up his head, And so amazed them all.
There he remained till Midsummer, And looked both pale and wan; Then Barleycorn he got a beard, And so became a man.
Then they sent men with scythes so sharp, To cut him off at knee; And then poor little Barleycorn, They served him barbarously.
Then they sent men with pitchforks strong To pierce him through the heart; And like a dreadful tragedy, They bound him to a cart.
And then they brought him to a barn, A prisoner to endure; And so they fetched him out again, And laid him on the floor.
Then they set men with holly clubs, To beat the flesh from his bones; But the miller he served him worse than that, For he ground him betwixt two stones.
O! Barleycorn is the choicest grain That ever was sown on land; It will do more than any grain, By the turning of your hand.
It will make a boy into a man, And a man into an ass; It will change your gold into silver, And your silver into brass.
It will make the huntsman hunt the fox, That never wound his horn; It will bring the tinker to the stocks, That people may him scorn.
It will put sack into a glass, And claret in the can; And it will cause a man to drink Till he neither can go nor stand.
Ballad: BLOW THE WINDS, I-HO!
[THIS Northumbrian ballad is of great antiquity, and bears considerable resemblance to THE BAFFLED KNIGHT; OR, LADY'S POLICY, inserted in Percy's RELIQUES. It is not in any popular collection. In the broadside from which it is here printed, the title and chorus are given, BLOW THE WINDS, I-O, a form common to many ballads and songs, but only to those of great antiquity. Chappell, in his POPULAR MUSIC, has an example in a song as old as 1698:-
'Here's a health to jolly Bacchus, I-ho! I-ho! I-ho!'
and in another well-known old catch the same form appears:-
'A pye sat on a pear-tree, I-ho, I-ho, I-ho.'
'Io!' or, as we find it given in these lyrics, 'I-ho!' was an ancient form of acclamation or triumph on joyful occasions and anniversaries. It is common, with slight variations, to different languages. In the Gothic, for example, Iola signifies to make merry. It has been supposed by some etymologists that the word 'yule' is a corruption of 'Io!']
THERE was a shepherd's son, He kept sheep on yonder hill; He laid his pipe and his crook aside, And there he slept his fill.
And blow the winds, I-ho! Sing, blow the winds, I-ho! Clear away the morning dew, And blow the winds, I-ho!
He looked east, and he looked west, He took another look, And there he spied a lady gay, Was dipping in a brook.
She said, 'Sir, don't touch my mantle, Come, let my clothes alone; I will give you as much money As you can carry home.'
'I will not touch your mantle, I'll let your clothes alone; I'll take you out of the water clear, My dear, to be my own.'
He did not touch her mantle, He let her clothes alone; But he took her from the clear water, And all to be his own.
He set her on a milk-white steed,
THERE came three men out of the West, Their victory to try; And they have taken a solemn oath, Poor Barleycorn should die.
They took a plough and ploughed him in, And harrowed clods on his head; And then they took a solemn oath, Poor Barleycorn was dead.
There he lay sleeping in the ground, Till rain from the sky did fall: Then Barleycorn sprung up his head, And so amazed them all.
There he remained till Midsummer, And looked both pale and wan; Then Barleycorn he got a beard, And so became a man.
Then they sent men with scythes so sharp, To cut him off at knee; And then poor little Barleycorn, They served him barbarously.
Then they sent men with pitchforks strong To pierce him through the heart; And like a dreadful tragedy, They bound him to a cart.
And then they brought him to a barn, A prisoner to endure; And so they fetched him out again, And laid him on the floor.
Then they set men with holly clubs, To beat the flesh from his bones; But the miller he served him worse than that, For he ground him betwixt two stones.
O! Barleycorn is the choicest grain That ever was sown on land; It will do more than any grain, By the turning of your hand.
It will make a boy into a man, And a man into an ass; It will change your gold into silver, And your silver into brass.
It will make the huntsman hunt the fox, That never wound his horn; It will bring the tinker to the stocks, That people may him scorn.
It will put sack into a glass, And claret in the can; And it will cause a man to drink Till he neither can go nor stand.
Ballad: BLOW THE WINDS, I-HO!
[THIS Northumbrian ballad is of great antiquity, and bears considerable resemblance to THE BAFFLED KNIGHT; OR, LADY'S POLICY, inserted in Percy's RELIQUES. It is not in any popular collection. In the broadside from which it is here printed, the title and chorus are given, BLOW THE WINDS, I-O, a form common to many ballads and songs, but only to those of great antiquity. Chappell, in his POPULAR MUSIC, has an example in a song as old as 1698:-
'Here's a health to jolly Bacchus, I-ho! I-ho! I-ho!'
and in another well-known old catch the same form appears:-
'A pye sat on a pear-tree, I-ho, I-ho, I-ho.'
'Io!' or, as we find it given in these lyrics, 'I-ho!' was an ancient form of acclamation or triumph on joyful occasions and anniversaries. It is common, with slight variations, to different languages. In the Gothic, for example, Iola signifies to make merry. It has been supposed by some etymologists that the word 'yule' is a corruption of 'Io!']
THERE was a shepherd's son, He kept sheep on yonder hill; He laid his pipe and his crook aside, And there he slept his fill.
And blow the winds, I-ho! Sing, blow the winds, I-ho! Clear away the morning dew, And blow the winds, I-ho!
He looked east, and he looked west, He took another look, And there he spied a lady gay, Was dipping in a brook.
She said, 'Sir, don't touch my mantle, Come, let my clothes alone; I will give you as much money As you can carry home.'
'I will not touch your mantle, I'll let your clothes alone; I'll take you out of the water clear, My dear, to be my own.'
He did not touch her mantle, He let her clothes alone; But he took her from the clear water, And all to be his own.
He set her on a milk-white steed,