Sedayne : Zither Songs Supplement - The Chapters Session / 77.10

This consists of a session recorded in the attic room of The Chapters Guesthouse, Wells, Somerset on the morning of Sunday the 8th of May 2005 in preparation for a solo storytelling gig at the Voicebox in Derby the following Wednesday. It has long been my habit in rehearsal situations to use recording equipment as a surrogate audience; a couple of well place condenser microphones (in this case an ADK A-51 V for the citera & a Behringer B1 for the voice, pocket trumpet & melodica) creates a necessary & ceremonial tension, a not-quite studio formality wherein the vivid essence of this improvisatory craft is urged into action.

1) May Horn - Astray - Four Acre in the Day / 6.37
A traditional opener for a solo Sedayne performance, mood of occasion / audience notwithstanding; May Horn features ill advised attempt at playing pocket trumpet & citera simultaneously; Astray is as complete a rendering as my failing memory allows; Four Acre in the Day is a version of the old Mutton Pie I first heard sung by Jim Eldon. If the sequence sounds inconclusive allow for a further segue into Orfeo...

aye listen close and it shall be told / and stir not from your places / and open not your eyes / and take of no food nor take of drink / and let your ears hear whatever it is that they hear / and let your mind think whatever it is that it thinks / aye listen / for is that not the hare that passes by this place? / I have seen it / ye hopper of ditches / a cropper of corn / and a wee brown cow / a wee brown cow with a pair of leather horns / aye milk the dark with your shuddering run / beast of no claiming / aye shatter the year by your turning shadow / rested / unseen / unseeing / aye in this place / one eye shall become open / and that eye will leap from out of the head / and go as a fish in the silver steam / and my tongue shall fly out of my head and go as bird / aye go as bird from tree / to tree / aye let them go from this place / and let them return hither / and the fish shall once more return here / once more becoming my eye / and the stream will be tears of joy and sadness / aye the bird shall once more return here / once more becoming my tongue / aye the trees become words / chosen / one to the other / is not my story the forest? / is not the stream the waters of this life that wash over this forest giving it the dance of living? / aye listen / for is that not the stag that passes by this place? / I have seen it / stir not / for in stirring we shatter the silence...

aye now me jolly lads if you want to plough / come to Ironheads and he'll show you how / if that there be true me lads / as I have heard them say / he wants you to plough four acre in the day / with the fol-the-diddle-di-do / fol-the-diddle-de / oh he's got four horses and they are very thin / and their ribs they are real right tight to the skin / there's one knocky-kneed / and the other swing in back / and he learns them to go with a whoop-gee-back / with the fol-the-diddle-di-do / fol-the-diddle-de / up come boss aye, this he did say / there's a yew been dead for a month and a day / fetch her up, Bullocky / fetch her on the sly / it'll make these lads some rare mutton pie / fetch her up Bullocky / fetch her on the sly / it'll make these lads some rare mutton pie / aye we put her on the table / the maggots running thick / and Bullocky was walloping them off with a stick / with the fol-the-diddle-di-do / fol-the-diddle-de / our old missus she's a treat / she makes such pies that none could eat / with a crust made of iron / and a belly full o' clay / that'll rattle in your guts for a month and a day / with the fol-the-diddle-di-do / fol-the-diddle-de / our old missus had a maid named Alice and thought she was fit to live in the palace / oh live in the palace and be a queen / I'm damned if she was fit to be seen / with the fol-the-diddle-di-do / fol-the-diddle-de / oh there were twa corbies sitting on a tree / aye large and black as black might be / and the ane unto the other gan say / aye where shall we gan and dine the day?

ii) King Orfeo / 8.06
Child 19. This song has been with me 1975, when I first picked upon it at the tender age of fourteen; of late it's featured in proximal virtuality on Venereum Arvum's Scowan Urla Grun, here it resounds similarly, albeit in real-time with the citera. Scowan Urla Grun / Whar Giorten Han Grun Orlac somehow translates as Early Green's the Wood, Where the Hart Runs Yearly.

Oh there lived a king inta da east / scowan urla grun
there lived a lady in da west / whar giorten han grun orlac

this king he has a hunting gane / scowan urla grun
and left his lady Isabel alane / whar giorten han grun orlac

o I wish ye'd never gane awa / scowan urla grun
for at yer hame is dole an wae / whar giorten han grun orlac

for the king o fairie wi his dart / scowan urla grun
has pierced yer lady tae the heart / whar giorten han grun orlac

an after them the king has gane / scowan urla grun
but when he cam it was a grey stane / whar giorten han grun orlac

dan he took out his pipes tae play / scowan urla grun
though sore his heart wi dole and wae / whar giorten han grun orlac

an first he played the notes o' noy / scowan urla grun
and then he played the notes o' joy / whar giorten han grun orlac

aye an then he played da good gabber reel /scowan urla grun
that might hae made a sick heart hale / whar giorten han grun orlac

noo come ye in inta wir ha' / scowan urla grun
and come ye in amang wis a' / whar giorten han grun orlac

noo he's gone in inta their ha' / scowan urla grun
and he's gone in amang them a' / whar giorten han grun orlac

dan he took out his pipes tae play / scowan urla grun
though sore his heart wi dole and wae / whar giorten han grun orlac

an first he played the notes o' noy / scowan urla grun
and then he played the notes o' joy / whar giorten han grun orlac

an then he played da good gabber reel / scowan urla grun
that might hae made a sick heart hale / whar giorten han grun orlac

noo tell tae us what ye will hae / scowan urla grun
what shall we give you for yer play? / whar giorten han grun orlac

for he'd rode by night and he'd rode by day / scowan urla grun
and owercam all that lay in his way / whar giorten han grun orlac

what I will hae I will ye tell / scowan urla grun
and that's my lady Isabel / whar giorten han grun orlac

ye's take yer lady and ye's gane hame / scowan urla grun
an yees be king ower aal yer ain / whar giorten han grun orlac

he's taen his lady and he's gaen hyem / scowan urla grun
and noo he's king ower aal his ain / whar giorten han grun orlac


3) Bird Robin / 12.34
This is an attempt to bring together Bird (see Venereum Arvum's Bird 2004 & Green As God...) and Robin Sick and Weary (see Zither Songs), something I first did in storytelling performances eight years ago using the crwth, but it makes more sense with the citera.

Robin was the sickest bird / that ever yet did fly / and he would have his testament made / before that he should die / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: Robin's sick and weary

Aye Bird came once / it was Harris lighting fires that brought it / in winter he burned the nest / and egg hatched in fire and Bird was born

You take out my bonny eyes that used to blink so bright / and give them to yon seemster lass / to save her candlelight / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: Robin's sick and weary

Bird flew among stars & he looked at the moon / Bird flew among trees 'til resting he came / on the roof / of the crone Kema

You take these bonny feathers o mine / the feathers about my nib / and give them to yon lady fair / to fill her feather bed / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: aye Robin's sick and weary

aye Kema took stones & threw them at Bird / but Bird being quick these stones missed Bird / falling instead at the back of the house / where these stones broke the ice / in Kema's well

You take off my bonny nib / that used to peck the corn / and give it to yon little heard boy / to be a tooting horn / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: Robin's sick and weary

These stones were however Kema's wall / where wall had once been through there came Bear / Bear went in house to rest before fire & in came Bird / to rest upon Bear

You take off my bonny wings that used to spread so wide / and give them to Saint Mary's kirk / to cover the sunny side / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: aye Robin's sick and weary

Aye you take off my bonny tail / it is so broad & brown / and give it to the bonny bride / to be her wedding gown / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: aye Robin's sick / aye Robin's sick / aye Robin's sick and weary

So Kema brought bread and gave it to Bird / but Bird would not the bread that she gave / Why not eat this? Kema asked Bird / and Bird said that Bear would be far worse hungry than Bird would be

And you take off my bonny legs / on which I used to trudge / and take them to the well water / as pillars for the bridge / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: Robin's sick and weary

Take this good right leg o mine / to mend the brig o' Tyne / it'll mak a girder braw & strong / that'll never twist nor bend / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: Robin's sick and weary

So Kema took bread and gave it to Bear / and Bear ate bread but now wished for honey / Kema brought honey and gave it Bear / and Bear ate honey and now wished / for Salmon

Take this good left leg o mine / to mend the brig o Wear / it'll mak a girder braw & strong / that'll never bow nor steer / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: aye Robin's sick / aye Robin's sick / aye Robin's sick and weary

So Kema brought salmon and gave it to Bear / and Bear ate salmon but now wished for ale / so Kema brought ale and gave it to Bear / and Bear drank ale and now wished for summer

In then came yon Cutty Wren / with mony a sigh and groan / oh what care I for all the lads? / if my wee lad be gone? / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: aye Robin's sick and weary

Bear slept ale-merry by Kema's bright fire / and Kema brought seeds and gave them to Bird / Bird ate seeds & flew among trees 'til resting it came / to the coat of the goat at Kema's well

Then Robin turned him round about / e'en like a little king / go mek my bed as well you know / ye little cutty queen / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: Robin's sick and weary

Out of the goat's coat Bird feasted on lice / but tastier still were the worms from his arse / who will morn the fate of those infesting worms? / to be sure, the only tears for them were shed by Bird.

Then you take your ten oxen and trail me to the hill / and part all and part me small / that the hungry may get their fill / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: Robin's sick and weary

Aye Bird came once / it was Harris lighting fires that brought it

When Robin had his testament made he had no more to say / and down there came a hungry hawk / & snatched him right away / singing tiddle iddle inkin tinkin tinkin / tiddle iddle inkin teary / heathery-tethery / heathery tarn: aye Robin's sick / aye Robin's sick / aye Robin's sick and weary

4) The Poacher's Fate / 7.41
My favourite of the traditional poaching songs even though the tune here is more or less the same as For He's a Jolly Good Fellow; first heard on The Battle of the Field by The Albion Country Band, the only 'folk rock' album I've ever taken to my heart...

Now come all you lads of high renown that like to drink strong ale that's brown,
And pull the lofty pheasant down with powder, shot and gun.
He's a gallant youth, and I'm telling you the truth,
Oh he's crossed all life's temptations ways, no mortal man his life could save,
Now he's sleeping in his grave, his deeds on earth be done.

Now me and five more poaching went, to get some game was our intent
Our goods were gone and our money all spent, we had nothing left to try.
Now the moon shone bright, not a cloud in sight,
Oh, the keeper heard us fire a gun, to the spot he quickly run,
He swore, before the rising sun, that one of us should die.

Now, the bravest youth among our lot, was his misfortune to be shot,
His deeds will never be forgot, by all of us below.
Now for help he cried, but he was denied
Oh his memory ever shall be blessed, for he stood up, he fought the rest,
While down upon his gallant breast, the crimson blood did flow.

Now this youth he fell down on the ground, all in his breast a mortal wound,
While through the woods the shot did sound, that took his life away.
In the midst of life he fell, aye suffering full-well,
Deep was the wound that the keeper gave, no mortal man his life could save,
And now he's sleeping in his grave, his deeds on earth be done.

Now the murderous man that did him kill, caused his precious blood to spill,
Must wander far against his will, and find no resting place.
Destructive things, his conscience stings,
He must wander through the world forlorn, ever feel the smarting thorn
Be pointed at with the finger of scorn, and die in sad disgrace.


5) Binnorie / 11.06
A variant of Child 21 from the Northumbrian Minstrelsy (Bruce & Stokoe 1882, Society of Antiquaries Newcastle-upon-Tyne / facsimile imprint Llanerch 1998); the strange modality is described therein as a '...true Northumbrian melody...'. 'Binnorie' is understood to be a contraction of 'By Norham', Norham being a village on the River Tweed west of Berwick, famous for its romantic castle ruins.

There were two sisters sat in a bower / Binnorie, o Binnorie
There came a knight to be their wooer / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

He courted the eldest with glove and ring / Binnorie, o Binnorie
But he loed the youngest aboon a' thing / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

He courted the eldest with broach and knife / Binnorie o Binnorie
But he loed the youngest aboon his life / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

The eldest she was vexed sair / Binnorie o Binnorie
And sore envied her sister fair / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

The eldest said to the youngest ane / Binnorie o Binnorie
Will ye go and see our father's ships come in? / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

She's taen her by the lilly white hand / Binnorie o Binnorie
And led her down to the river strand / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

The youngest stude upon a stane / Binnorie o Binnorie
The eldest came and pushed her in / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

She took her by the middle sma / Binnorie o Binnorie
And dashed her bonnie back to the jaw / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

0 sister, sister, reach your band / Binnorie o Binnorie
And ye shall be heir of half my land / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

0 sister, I'll not reach my hand / Binnorie o Binnorie
And I 'll be heir of all your land / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

Shame fa the hand that I should take / Binnorie o Binnorie
It 's twin'd me and my world's make / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

0 sister, reach me but your glove / Binnorie o Binnorie
And sweet William shall be your love / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

Sink on, nor hope for hand or glove / Binnorie o Binnorie
And sweet William shall better be my love / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

Your cherry cheeks and your yellow hair / Binnorie o Binnorie
Garrd me gang maiden evermair / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

Sometimes she sunk, and sometimes she swam / Binnorie o Binnorie
Until she came to the miller's dam / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

The millers daughter was baking bread / Binnorie o Binnorie
and gaed for the water as she had need / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

0 father, father, draw your dam / Binnorie o Binnorie
There's either a mermaid or a milk-white swan / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

The miller hasted and drew his dam / Binnorie o Binnorie
And there he found a drowned woman / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

You could not see her yellow hair / Binnorie o Binnorie
For gowd and pearls that were sae rare / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

You could na see her middle sma / Binnorie o Binnorie
Her gowden girdle was sae bra / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

A famous harper passing by / Binnorie o Binnorie
The sweet pale face he chanced to spy / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

And when he looked that ladye on / Binnorie o Binnorie
He sighed and made a heavy moan / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

sair for them whate'er they be / Binnorie o Binnorie
the hearts that live to weep for thee / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

He made a harp of her breast-bone / Binnorie o Binnorie
Whose sounds would melt a heart of stone / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

The strings he framed of her yellow hair / Binnorie o Binnorie
Whose notes made sad the listening ear / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

He brought it to her father's hall / Binnorie o Binnorie
And there was the court assembled all / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

He laid this harp upon a stone / Binnorie o Binnorie
And straight it began to play alone / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

0 yonder sits my father, the king / Binnorie o Binnorie
And yonder sits my mother, the queen / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

And yonder stands my brother Hugh / Binnorie o Binnorie
And by him my William, sweet and true / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie

But the last tune that the harp played then / Binnorie o Binnorie
Was woe to my sister, false Helen / by the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie


6) AU Hinney Burd - Jack Corby / 10.57
A sequence of classic Northumbriana: A U Hinney Burd comes from Crawhall's A Beuk O' Newcassel Sangs (1888; reprinted Frank Graham, 1965), of special significance to me because my great-great-grandfather, arriving in Newcastle from County Cork, established himself as a tailor on the Castle Garth stairs. Jack Corby was a sexton at Bedlington in Northumberland who lost a leg in his youth; the song here is based on verses published in The Blyth Gleaner on the occasion of his death in 1819. The story of The Sleeping Fox is derived from Norwegian folk lore (as is the word Hyem, incidently) and is here told, rather than recited, and transcribed accordingly; for an earlier rendering of this story see the Lamachree & Megrum Supplement; 'Hark Away' is the chorus of the celebrated song The Kielder Hunt written by James Armstrong of Redesdale in the 19th century; & 'Hartley & Holywell' is a possible stray verse from A U Hinney Burd found in The Denham Tracks (A Few Pictures of the Olden Time in Connexion with The North of England) first published in 1858.

It's o but I ken weel - A U Hinney Bird
the bonny lass o' Benwell - A U A
She's lang legged and mother-like - A U Hinney Bird
See she's raking up the Dyke - A U A

The quayside for sailors - A U Hinney Bird
The castle garth for tailors - A U A
The Gateshead hills for millers - A U Hinney Bird
The north shore for keelers - A U A

There's Sandgate for auld rags - A U Hinney Bird
An Gallowgate for trolly bags - A U A
There's Denton and Kenton - A U Hinney Bird
And canny Langbenton - A U A

There's Tynemouth an Cullercoats - A U Hinney Bird
An' North Shields for sculler-boats - A U A
There's Westhoe lies iv a neuk - A U Hinney Bird
An South Shields the pleyce for muck - A U A

There's Horton and Holywell - A U Hinney Bird
An bonny Seaton Delaval - A U A
Hartley-pans for sailors - A U Hinney Bird
Bedlington for nailers - A U A

*
I hear old Corby lies in his sleep; grave digging was his occupation
Or ringing the bell, the church to keep; or dusting the pews upon occasion

Aye lame of arm with but one leg; some charity Jack was deserving
But he was too bashful to gan oot an beg; and he'd rather prefer half starving

And his speech and manners, oh they were uncouth; but firm and staunch upon occasion
And he always bluntly told the truth; withoot the smallest deviation

But to hunt the fox was his delight; to get sly Reynard in his clutches
He stopped the fox holes up by night; and by day, he hunted on his crutches

Whenever the fox was in full view; no footman with Jack could keep stitches
As Jack away on his crutches flew; louping nimbly ower hedges and ditches

Well here we find owld Jack Corby / limping his way through the Ha'penny woods at Bedlington / one fine and a grand sunny afternoon / at the back end of July / and he's thinking to himself / he's thinking / life doesn't get any better than this / when just there in the path before him he see there / something russet and red / something russet and red fast sleeping it is / in the light that's coming shining through the leaves above him / and as he gets nearer up to that thing sleeping there he sees exactly what it is / why it's nothing else but a sleeping fox / why, Jack's taking a look at that fox then / and he's thinking to himself / well / a sleeping fox is easier killed than a leaping fox / and once it's dead / who's to know how it was that I killed it? / chances are I took that fox / in a rare chase / ower the hill and ower the dale / ower hedges ditches brooks and bridges and all:

hark away / hark away / ower the bonny hills o' Kielder / hark away

and wouldn't I be the grand hero then when I tell them that particular tale? / because for sure this fox is bound to be the scourge of every gentleman farmer from hereabouts / and they'll be rewarding me well for the hide of owld Reynard / for the brush of his tale indeed / and they'll be giving me a grand big purse of coins / golden coins they'll be / and I'll take those golden coins / and I'll buy myself a fine field / and I'll buy myself a grand old plough / and a horse to pull that plough along / and when the ploughing's done / and when the ploughing's done I'll buy myself a fine sack of corn / to sow in that field / and by the time the next summer's coming on / the people passing by my field will be saying / aye there's Jack's field golden under the sun / it'll be a richer man he'll be when the harvest's done / and knowing the folks from hereabouts they'll be getting jealous at that / so I'll have to be saying to them / I'll have to be saying / aye keep to your own and leave my field alone / will they be taking notice of me if I'm just saying it to them? / no ideed / so I'll have to be shouting it at them / keep to your own and leave my field alone / and I'm thinking they'll be taking no notice of me then either / just shouting it at them / so I'll have to be screaming it at them / keep to your own and leave my field alone / well, old Jack Corby screamed a little bit too loud then did he not? / for he woke up the sleeping fox / and away it went giving him a wee bit of a wink / and leaving Jack Corby with nowt / but the sight of its brush as it disappeared away into hedge / and it's because of this that they say / oh it's best to take what lies in reach / and of your undone deeds of them you should never screech

oh there were twa corbies sitting on a tree / large and black as black might be / and the ane untae the other gan say / aye where shall we gan and dine today?

there's Hartley and Holywell / and fair Seaton Delaval / Earsdon stands on a hill / aye no sae far from Billy Mill

and as for old Jack Corby:

but now his hunting days are done; we hope he'll not be forgotten
it's hoped he will meet up at last; with the honest sportsmen in heaven


7) M'Ginty's Meal an Ale (Beta Version) / 8.45

Similar to the version on Zither Songs albeit improved upon, with greater narrative control on the spurtles line; a spurtle is a wooden stick for stirring porridge; adorned with a carved thistle & tied off with a tartan ribbon they make a cheap & effective souvenir for visitors to Edinburgh) & additional end chorus from Sheelicks which, once heard, I couldn't resist putting in there.

This is nae a sang o' love, nor yet a sang o' money, if there's naething very pitiful an' naething very funny; but there's Heelan' Scotch, an' Lowlan' Scotch an' Butter Scotch an' honey; if there's nane o' them for a' there's a mixtur o' the three; an there's nae a word o' beef-brose, sowans, sautie bannocks; nor o' pancakes and pess eggs for them wi' dainty stammacks. But it's all aboot a meal-an'-ale that happened at Balmannocks; M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.

They were howlin' in the kitchen like a caravan o' tinkies, an some wis playin' ping-pong an' tiddly-widdly-winkies; but up the howe an doon the howe there never was such jinkies as M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.

M'Ginty's pig had broken loose an wan ert tae the lobby for he'd open shoved the pantry door an came upon the toddy; and he gaed kindly tae the stuff like any human body at M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree. Miss M'Ginty she ran but the hoose, but the road wis dark and crookit, she fell heelster-gowdie ower the pig for it she never lookit, and she let oot a skirl that wad a paralyst a teuchit at M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.

Young Murphy he ran after her an ower the pig wis leapin', but he trampit on an ashet that was sittin full o' dreepin - and he feel doon an peelt his croon an' couldnae haud frae greetin' at M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree. For the pantry shelf cam rickling doon and he was lying kirnin', among the soft soap the peese meal the corn floor and yirnin', like a gollach amang the treacle but M'Ginty's wife was girnin' at the mess upon her pantry floor and wouldna let him be.

Then they a ran skirlin' tae the door, an' foon that it was ruggit; for it aye heeld the faster more, aye the more they tuggit; til M'Ginty roared tae bring an axe, he wadnae be hum-buggit, nor even lockit in his ain hoose an' that he let them see. So the wife cam trailin' wi the axe, an through the bar wis hackit, and open flew the door at once, so close as they were packit: an' all the crew came tumblin' oot like tatties frae a buckit at M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.

They hid spurtles, they had tattie-chappers and troth they werenae jokin', for they said the gar the pig the claw, for he was never yokin', but by this time the lad was drunk and didnae care a dokin' at M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree. Oh there's eely-pigs an jeely-pigs and pigs for haudin' butter, aye but this wee piggy was greeting drunk and tumblin' in the gutter, til M'Ginty an' his foreman trailed him oot upon a shutter frae M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.

Miss M'Ginty took the thing tae heart and hidet in the closet and they rubbit Johnny Murphy's heed wi turpentine an roset, an they harlit him wi meal-an-ale, ye really wid suppose it, for he'd sleepit in a masons trough and risen tae the spree. Oh weary on the barley-bree, and weary frae the widder, for its keegerin' amang the dubs an drink, they gan nae weel the-gidder, but there's little doot M'Ginty's pig is wishin' for another o' M'Ginty's meal-an-ales far the pig gaed on the spree.

Oh they were howlin' in the kitchen like a caravan o' tinkies, aye; an some wis playing ping-pong an' tiddly-widdly-winkies; but up the howe an doon the howe there never was such jinkies as M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree.

Hi-hi went the drum, diddle-diddle went the fiddle and the jing-a-ring went up an' doon an' back and through the middle; and the jing-a-ring went roond and roond like sheelicks in a riddle at M'Ginty's meal-an-ale far the pig gaed on the spree


8) Psalm 32 Verse 3 : Northern Star / 11.04
Clive Powell wrote the words of Northern Star to my melody Psalm 32 Verse 3 (see VAS & Splendor Solis) back in 1999 & we've made various recordings featuring Clive's singing (see Northern Star & HYEM); here however, I sing it myself in the context of an improvisation in which I play the melodica & citera simultaneously in echo of the mood of Clive's lyric: a landscape of ciphers, patterns familiar to the North East of England, to Tyneside & South East Northumberland - I see it serving a similar purpose to A U Hinney Burd, a song of hidden & secret naming.


By the tide I lost my footing
Falling - into night
Star's settling light at end of day

Drifting loose I reach my lost home
Dreaming, Northern Star my anchor steady in the bay

Seaward bound depth sounding, trawling
Casting nets in waves the bright prow greets with 'Hope of Day'

Boat planks nailed in holding
Floating, keeping fishes hawled the silver shines in hands of day

Deep in woods the track
For tripping, tracing
In by trees the grazing spears in side of day

Out to fields plough wounding churning
Gaping, deep dark earth wide open to the seed of day

Harvest ground your breathing in by
Bailing, combine lights see gleaning through till break of day

Folding dough the bread the flesh
Unfolding rising life new foundling straying back with day

Clearing mists the birds sing filling
Hearing all the mornings that return anew with day

Wind stroked wires the pylons hockling
Howling, cuckoo spit clings glistening sparking with the day

Home my home your bricks
Your rooms bright painted
Sunlight walls that whiten in the dawn of day

Waking light the sea roars wide between us
Homing heart plunge deep in glory of the day.



contact: chapters@sedayne.co.uk