Famous Flower Of Serving Men

Famous Flower Of Serving Men

Martin Carthy

Альбом: Waiting For Angels
Длительность: 10:17
Год: 2004
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Текст песни

My mother did me deadly spite
For she sent thieves in the dark of the night
Put my servants all to flight
They robbed my bower, they slew my knight
They couldn't do to me no harm
So they slew my baby in my arm
Left me naught to wrap him in
But the bloody sheet that he lay in
They left me naught to dig his grave
But the bloody sword that slew my babe
All alone the grave I made
And all alone the tears I shed

And all alone the bell I rang
And all alone the psalm I sang
I leaned my head all against the block
And there I cut my lovely locks
I cut my locks and I changed my name
From fair Eleanor to sweet William
Went to court to serve my king
As the famous floud of serving men

So well I served my lord the king
That he made me his chamberlain
He loved me as his son
The famous floud of serving men
And ofttimes he'd look at me and smile
So swift his heart I did beguile
And he blessed the day that I became
The famous floud of serving men

Oh, but all alone in my bed at e'en
There I dreamed a dreadful dream
I saw my bed swim with blood
I saw the thieves all around my head

Our king is to the hunting gone
He's ta'en no lords nor gentlemen
He's left me there to guard his home
The famous floud of serving men
Our king he rode the wood all around
Stayed all day but nothing found
And as he rode himself alone
It's there he spied the milk-white hind

Oh, the hind she broke, the hind she flew
The hind she trampled the bramble through
First she'd melt and then she'd sound
Sometimes before, sometimes behind
Oh, what is this? How can it be?
Such a hind as this I ne'er did see
Such a hind as this was never born
I fear she'll do me deadly harm

And long, long did the great horse turn
To save his lord from branch and thorn
Long ere the day was o'er
They'd tangled all in his yellow hair

And all in a glade the king drew nigh
Where the hind shone bright all in his eye
Oh, he sprang down, sword drew
She vanished there all from his view
And all around the grass was green
All around where her grave was seen
Sat himself down on the stone
Great weariness it seized him on

Great silence hung from tree to sky
The woods grew still, the sun hung fire
Through the wood the dovey came
As through the woods he made his bone
Oh, the dovey sat down on a stone
So sweet he looked, so soft he sang
Alas the day my love became
The famous floud of serving men

Oh, the bloody tears they fell as rain
Still he sat and still he sang
Alas the day my love became
The famous floud of serving men

Our king cried out and he wept full sore
So loud unto the dove he did call
"Pretty bird, come sing it plain"
Oh, it was her mother's deadly spite
For she sent thieves in the dark of the night
They come to rob, they come to slay
They made their sport, they went their way
And don't you think that her heart was sore
As she laid the mould on his yellow hair?
Don't you think that her heart was woe
As she turned about all her way to go?
And how she wept as she changed her name
From fair Eleanor to sweet William, went
To court to serve her king
As the famous flower of serving-men

O, the bloody tears they lay all around
He's mounted up and away he's gone
One thought come to his mind
The thought of her that was a man
And as he's rode himself along
A dreadful oath he there has sworn
That he would hunt her mother down
Like he would hunt the wild wood swine
For there's four and twenty ladies all
And they're all playing at the ball
Fairer than all of them
Is the famous flower of serving-men

Our king rode in into his hall
And he's rode in among them all
Lifted her to his saddle brim
He's kissed her there both cheek and chin
O, the lords all stood and they stretched their eyes
The ladies hid in their hands and smiled
For a stranger homecoming
No gentleman had ever seen
And he has sent his nobles all
To her mother they have gone
'Tain her that did such wrong
They've laid her down in a prison strong
And he's brought men up from the corn
And he's sent men down to the thorn
For to build the bonfire high
O, for to set her mother by
O, bonny sang the morning thrush
Where he sat in yonder bush
Louder did her mother cry
In the bonfire where she burned close by
O, for there she stood all among the thorn
There she sang her deadly song
Alas the day that she became
The famous flower of serving-men
For the fire took first all on her cheek
And there it took all on her chin
Spat and it rang in her yellow hair
As there she burnt like a hokey green