Ye Vagabonds - Lord Gregory lyrics
Brían and Diarmuid Mac Gloinn
[Ye Vagabonds - Lord Gregory lyrics]
Oh, I am a poor girl straight from Cappoquin
In search of Lord Gregory
Pray God I’ll find him
The rain beats my yellow locks
The dew wets my skin
My babe is cold in my arms, "Lord Gregory
Let me in"
Lord Gregory's not here and
Henceforth can’t be seen
He’s gone to bonny Scotland to
Bring home his new queen
So leave now these windows
And likewise this hall
For it’s deep in the sea
You should hide your downfall
Do you remember, Lord Gregory
That night in Cappoquin
We changed the rings from our fingers
And that against my will?
For yours was pure silver
And mine was black tin
For yours cost twelve guineas, love
And mine not one cent
Do you remember, Lord Gregory
In my father's hall
Where you had your will of me
And that was worst of all
Who'll shoe my babe’s little feet? Who’ll
Put gloves on her hand?
Who'll tie my babe’s middle with
The long and green band?
Who'll comb my babe’s yellow locks
With an ivory comb?
Who'll be my babe’s father till
Lord Gregory comes home?
My curse on you, Mother
My curse it being sore
For I heard the lass of Aughrim
Came knocking at my door
Go lie down, my foolish son
Now lie down and sleep
For it’s long ago your weary maid
Went wailing in the deep
Go saddle me the black horse
The brown and the bay
Go saddle me the finest horse
In my stable today
I will range over mountains
And valleys so wide
Till I find the lass of Aughrim
And lie down by her side
In search of Lord Gregory
Pray God I’ll find him
The rain beats my yellow locks
The dew wets my skin
My babe is cold in my arms, "Lord Gregory
Let me in"
Lord Gregory's not here and
Henceforth can’t be seen
He’s gone to bonny Scotland to
Bring home his new queen
So leave now these windows
And likewise this hall
For it’s deep in the sea
You should hide your downfall
Do you remember, Lord Gregory
That night in Cappoquin
We changed the rings from our fingers
And that against my will?
For yours was pure silver
And mine was black tin
For yours cost twelve guineas, love
And mine not one cent
Do you remember, Lord Gregory
In my father's hall
Where you had your will of me
And that was worst of all
Who'll shoe my babe’s little feet? Who’ll
Put gloves on her hand?
Who'll tie my babe’s middle with
The long and green band?
Who'll comb my babe’s yellow locks
With an ivory comb?
Who'll be my babe’s father till
Lord Gregory comes home?
My curse on you, Mother
My curse it being sore
For I heard the lass of Aughrim
Came knocking at my door
Go lie down, my foolish son
Now lie down and sleep
For it’s long ago your weary maid
Went wailing in the deep
Go saddle me the black horse
The brown and the bay
Go saddle me the finest horse
In my stable today
I will range over mountains
And valleys so wide
Till I find the lass of Aughrim
And lie down by her side