To listen to Lorna's recordings, go to:
https://soundcloud.com/lorna-franklin-881070121
https://myspace.com/lornafranklin/music/songs
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCk42OBCkOpTu2ov4gdflsTg
Fear A’Bhata
Fear a’bhata ‘s na ho ro eile
Fear a’bhata ‘s na ho ro eile
Fear a’bhata ‘s na ho ro eile
So fare thee well, love, where e’er thou be
How often hunting the highest hilltop,
I scan the ocean your boat to see?
Will’t come today, love, will’t come tomorrow?
Or ever come, love, to comfort me?
There’s not a hamlet, but well I know it,
Where you go wand’ring, or rest awhile.
But all its old folks you win with talk, love,
And charm its maidens with song and smile.
Thou art a rover, my friends have told me,
But nonetheless to my heart I hold thee,
And every night, in my dreams, I hold thee,
Until at dawn do the visions flee.
My lover promised to bring his lady
A silken gown and a tartan plaidie,
A ring of gold which would show his semblance,
But, ah, I fear me, for his remembrance.
Geordie
As I walked out over
One misty morning early,
I overheard a fair pretty maid
Was lamenting the life of Geordie.
“Oh my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain;
Tis not the chain of many;
He was born of kings’ royal blood
And courted a virtuous lady
“Go bridle me my milk white steed;
Go bridle me my pony.
I will ride to
To plead for the life of Geordie”
And as she rode into the courtyard
There were lords and ladies a-plenty
And all on her bended knee she fell
To plead for the life of Geordie.
“Oh my Geordie never stole nor cow nor calf;
He never hurted any.
Stole sixteen of the King’s royal deer
And he sold then in Bohenny.”
The judge looked over his left shoulder.
He said “Dear girl I’m sorry.”
He said “dear girl, you’ve come too late,
For he’s been condemned already.”
“Oh let Geordie hang in a golden chain;
Tis not the chain of many.
Stole sixteen of the King’s royal deer
And he sold them in Bohenny.
“Two pretty babies have I born.
The third lies in my body.
I’d freely part with them everyone
To spare the life of Geordie.”
Jock O’ Hazeldean
'Why weep ye by the tide, lady,
Why weep ye by the tide?
I'll wed you to my youngest son,
And you shall be his bride:
And you shall be his bride, lady
So comely to be seen'
But aye she let the tears downfa'
For Jock o' Hazeldean.
'A coat of gold you shall not lack,
Nor comb to bind you hair,
Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,
Nor palfrey fresh and fair.
And you, the fairest of them a'
Shall ride our forest queen.'
But aye she let the tears downfa'
For Jock o' Hazeldean.
'Now let this willful grief be done,
And dry those cheeks so pale;
Young Frank is chief of Erthington,
And lord of Langleydale;
His step is first in peaceful ha',
His sword in battle keen' -
But aye she let the tears downfa'
Foe Jock of Hazeldean.
The kirk was deck'd at morning tide,
The tapers glimmer'd fair.
The priest and bridegroom wait the bride,
And dame and knight were there.
They searched for her in bower and ha'
The lady was not seen.
She's o'er the border and away,
With Jock o' Hazeldean.
Moonshiner
I’ve been a moonshiner for seventeen long years.
I’ve spent all my money on whiskey and beer.
I’ll go to some hollow and set up my still
And if whiskey don’t kill me then I don’t know what will.
I’ll go to some bar room and drink with my friends
Where the women can’t follow and see what I spend.
I love them pretty women; I wish they were mine;
Their breath is as sweet as the dew on the vine.
Let me eat when I’m hungry, drink when I’m dry,
Give me money when I’m hard up, religion when I die,
For the whole worlds a bottle and life’s but a dram;
When the bottle gets empty, it ain’t worth a damn.
Motherless Child
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
A long long way from home
Sometimes I wish that I could fly
Sometimes I wish that I could fly
Sometimes I wish that I could fly
A long long way from home
Sometimes I feel like freedom is near
Sometimes I feel like freedom is near
Sometimes I feel like freedom is near
A long long way from home
Sometimes I feel like the kingdom is near
Sometimes I feel like the kingdom is near
Sometimes I feel like the kingdom is near
A long long way from home
She Moved Through The Fair
My young love said to me,
“My mother won’t mind,
And my father won’t slight you,
For your lack of kind,”
And she stepped away from me,
And this she did say,
“It will not be long, love,
Till our wedding day.”
Then she turned away from me,
And she moved through the fair.
So fondly I watched her
Move here and move there,
And then she went homeward
With one star awake,
Like the swan in the evening
Moves over the lake.
The people were saying,
No two were e’er wed,
But one had a sorrow
That never was said.
I smiled as she passed me,
With her goods and her gear,
And that was the last that
I saw of my dear.
Last night she came to me,
My dead love came in.
So softly she came
That her feet made no din,
And she laid her hand on me
And this she did say,
“It will not be long, love,
Till our wedding day.”
The Silkie Of Sule Skerrie
There sits a maid down by the sea strand,
And “Hush-a-lu-lay” this maid began,
“And little know I my baby’s father
Far less the land that he dwells in.”
Oh he came one night to her bed feet
And a grumbly guest I’m sure was he,
Saying, “Here I am, thy baby’s father,
Although I be not comely.
“I am a man upon dry land.
I am a Silkie on the sea
And when I’m far from any strand,
My dwelling is in Sule Skerrie.”
And he has taken a chain of gold,
And he has placed it on her knee,
Saying “Give to me my little young son
And take thee up thy nursing fee.
“And you shall marry a gunner good,
And a very fine gunner, I’m sure he’ll be,
And the very first shot that e’er he fires
Will kill both my young son & me.”
And she has married a gunner good,
And a very fine gunner, it was he.
And he went out on a May morning
And he shot both the son and the Great Silkie.
Wayfaring Stranger
I am a poor wayfaring stranger
Travelling through this world of woe
And there’s no sickness, no toil nor danger
In that bright world to which I go
I’m going there to see my father
I’m going there no more to roam
I’m only going over
I’m only going over home
I know dark clouds will gather round me
I know my way is rough and steep
But golden fields lie down before me
Where god’s redeemed shall ever sleep
I’m going there to see my mother
She said she’d meet me when I come
I’m only going over
I’m only going over home
I’ll soon be free from every trial
My body sleep in the churchyard
I’ll drop the cross of self denial
And enter on my great reward
I’m going there to see my saviour
To sing his praise for ever more
I’m only going over
I’m only going over home