The Robin's Petition (1814)

Поделиться
HTML-код
  • Опубликовано: 5 фев 2025
  • Apologies for some of my earliest concertina playing. We all had to do something during the pandemic!
    The words were originally a children's poem from Maria Edgeworth's Continuation of Early Lessons (1814). It is part of the story "The Bee And The Cow" from her series of tales about "Rosamond"... but the poem itself is possibly older. A version with some more verses had already been published in 1802 in the Scots Magazine (p. 921). In 1814 John Whitaker added a melody and published it as a song. Whitaker (1776-1848; see Brown/Stratton 1897, pp. 443-4)
    So, while the cold winter blasts its way across the country, here's our take on this beautiful song about a poor little robin begging to come in before it freezes to death in the cold.
    Concertina and Vocals - Saena Eyre Solus
    Don't forget to SUBSCRIBE!
    LYRICS:
    When the leaves had forsaken the trees,
    And the forests were chilly and bare
    When the brooks were beginning to freeze,
    And the snow wavered fast through the air,
    A robin had fled from the wood,
    To the snug habitation of man
    On the threshold the wanderer stood
    And thus [HER] petition began
    "The snow's coming down very fast,
    No shelter is found on the tree
    When you hear this unpitying blast,
    I ----- pray you take pity on me.
    "The hips and the haws all are gone,
    I can find neither berry nor sloe
    The ground is as hard as a stone
    And I'm almost buried in snow.
    My dear little nest, once so neat
    Is now empty, and ragged, and torn
    On some tree, should I now take my seat
    I'd be frozen quite fast before morn.
    Oh! throw me a, morsel of bread
    Take me in by the side of your fire
    And when I am warmed and well-fed
    I'll whistle without other hire.
    "Till the sun is again shining bright
    And the snow is all gone, let me stay
    Oh see, what a terrible night
    I shall die if you drive me away.
    And when you come forth in the morn
    and are walking and talking around
    Oh, how will your bosom be torn
    when you see me lie dead on the ground!
    Then pity a poor little thing,
    And throw me a part of your store
    I'll fly off on the first day of spring,
    And never will trouble you more."
    FOLLOW US: www.reverbnati...
    BOOK US: gigsalad.com/Wylde_Meade_Houston
    VIRTUAL TIP JARS:
    Venmo - @WyldeMeade
    Paypal - WyldeMeade@gmail.com
    Thank you!

Комментарии • 4