Uploaded November 2021 | Updated September 2026, 3 days ago
I'll Cut Off My Long Yellow Hair / My Brother Built Me a Bancy Bower / My Father Built Me a Shady Bower / Sweet William / The Small Birds Whistle / Dukes and Earls / The Border Widow's Lament / The Famous Flower of Serving Men (Child No. 106) (1962) - Sung by "Queen" Caroline Hughes, a Gypsy woman of Dorset. Recorded by Ewan MacColl, Peggy Seeger and Charles Parker c.1962.
Song transcription:
Oh, my father he built me a shady bower,
And he covered it over with the shamrock leaves;
'Twas the prettiest bower, oh, that ever you see,
What my aged father he built for me.
Oh, could my brother do me a bigger grudge
Oh, to send nine robbers all in one night?
Oh, to send nine robbers all in one night
All to murder my baby and to slave my life.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
For I had nothing for now to wrap it in,
But the linen sheet that my love died in.
Oh, I'm all alone, all alone, yes I'm all alone;
Till I took the fiddle and I played a tune:
Oh, for once I was a fair lady gay,
And my husband he was now a noble lord.
Now, I catched hold to the pen and I wrote a line,
I wrote it long and I wrote it neat;
But every blow struck him all on the crown,
Left him all on the highway, oh, there to die.
Now I'll cut off my hair and I'll change my name,
From Fair Ellender to Sweet William-boy;
Yes, and every town, love, oh, that I sails through
They would take me, my love, for to be the queen.
Oh, now I rung at the bell and out come the lord,
Oh, do you want now a house-groom,
Or do you want now a stableman?
No, I want a man-servant to attend to the hall
Now to attend to the hall when the lord is gone.
Oh, it's are you married or am you free,
Or am I bounded for now to be your bride?
Oh, a marriage life it will now soon suit me,
A contented mind don't there be jealousy.
Oh, it's are you married now, or am I bound,
Or am I bound, dear, to be your bride?
Oh, a maid again that I will never be
Whilst an apple grows on an orange tree.
Now 'tis early, early, all in the spring,
Well, the birds they whistles and they softly sing,
Well, they changes their notes, oh, from tree to tree,
And the song they sang it were 'Home, Sweet Home'.
Now as I cross over the foggy moor,
I soon lost sights of my true love's face;
Well, I looked behind as I looked befront,
That's my aged old father I will see no more.
I'll Cut Off My Long Yellow Hair / My Brother Built Me a Bancy Bower / My Father Built Me a Shady Bower / Sweet William / The Small Birds Whistle / Dukes and Earls / The Border Widow's Lament / The Famous Flower of Serving Men (Child No. 106) (1962) - Sung by "Queen" Caroline Hughes, a Gypsy woman of Dorset. Recorded by Ewan MacColl, Peggy Seeger and Charles Parker c.1962.
Song transcription:
Oh, my father he built me a shady bower,
And he covered it over with the shamrock leaves;
'Twas the prettiest bower, oh, that ever you see,
What my aged father he built for me.
Oh, could my brother do me a bigger grudge
Oh, to send nine robbers all in one night?
Oh, to send nine robbers all in one night
All to murder my baby and to slave my life.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
For I had nothing for now to wrap it in,
But the linen sheet that my love died in.
Oh, I'm all alone, all alone, yes I'm all alone;
Till I took the fiddle and I played a tune:
Oh, for once I was a fair lady gay,
And my husband he was now a noble lord.
Now, I catched hold to the pen and I wrote a line,
I wrote it long and I wrote it neat;
But every blow struck him all on the crown,
Left him all on the highway, oh, there to die.
Now I'll cut off my hair and I'll change my name,
From Fair Ellender to Sweet William-boy;
Yes, and every town, love, oh, that I sails through
They would take me, my love, for to be the queen.
Oh, now I rung at the bell and out come the lord,
Oh, do you want now a house-groom,
Or do you want now a stableman?
No, I want a man-servant to attend to the hall
Now to attend to the hall when the lord is gone.
Oh, it's are you married or am you free,
Or am I bounded for now to be your bride?
Oh, a marriage life it will now soon suit me,
A contented mind don't there be jealousy.
Oh, it's are you married now, or am I bound,
Or am I bound, dear, to be your bride?
Oh, a maid again that I will never be
Whilst an apple grows on an orange tree.
Now 'tis early, early, all in the spring,
Well, the birds they whistles and they softly sing,
Well, they changes their notes, oh, from tree to tree,
And the song they sang it were 'Home, Sweet Home'.
Now as I cross over the foggy moor,
I soon lost sights of my true love's face;
Well, I looked behind as I looked befront,
That's my aged old father I will see no more.
