The Witch Of Westmoorland, Stan's best

The Witch of Westmoorland
by Stan Rogers



Pale was the wounded knight, that bore the rowan shield
Loud and cruel were the raven's cries that feasted on the field
Saying "Beck water cold and clear will never clean your wound
There's none but the witch of the Westmoreland can make thee hale and soond"


So turn, turn your stallion's head 'til his red mane flies in the wind
And the rider of the moon goes by and the bright star falls behind
And clear was the paley moon when his shadow passed him by
below the hills were the brightest stars when he heard the owlet cry


Saying "Why do you ride this way, and wherefore came you here?"
"I seek the Witch of the Westmorland that dwells by the winding mere"
And it's weary by the Ullswater and the misty brake fern way
Til throught the cleft in the Kirkstane Pass the winding water lay


He said "Lie down, by brindled hound and rest ye, my good grey hawk
And thee, my steed may graze thy fill for I must dismount and walk,
But come when you hear my horn and answer swift the call
For I fear ere the sun will rise this morn ye will serve me best of all"


And it's down to the water's brim he's born the rowan shield
And the goldenrod he has cast in to see what the lake might yield
And wet she rose from the lake, and fast and fleet went she
One half the form of a maiden fair with a jet black mare's body


And loud, long and shrill he blew til his steed was by his side
High overhead the grey hawk flew and swiftly did he ride
Saying "Course well, my brindled hound, and fetch me the jet black mare
Stoop and strike, my good grey hawk, and bring me the maiden fair"


She said "Pray, sheathe thy silvery sword. Lay down thy rown shield
For I see by the briny blood that flows you've been wounded in the field"
And she stood in a gown of the velvet blue, bound round withh a silver chain
And she's kissed his pale lips once and twice and three times round again


And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod, full fast in her arms he lay
And he has risen hale and sound with the sun high in the day
She said "Ride with your brindled hound at heel, and your good grey hawk in hand
There's none can harm the knight who's lain with the Witch of the Westmorland."

I like this one too! as far as i know, i have at least one copy of evertything Stan ever did. (Unless they've come out with something since Live From Halifax) I think my own personal favorite is Giant.

Ah yes. The Giant. One of the songs we like to play. And the more whiskey you've had, the better the song is.

Do you have a copy of the vidio One Warm Line? There is a scene in there where Stan and the band are sitting around a table singing Barrett's Privateers and obviously having a great time. I'm sure the bottle or two that are in evidence didn't hurt either!

The bottle never hurts, lass.

I remember seeing it when I was in grade 8 in music class. Haven't seen it since, and I didn't apreciate it at the time. They have the film for sale on his label's website.

OR, That was beautifully done, I am new to reading Stan Rogers , But I find that he has a certain purity of truth about him. Thank you for sharing that. Would love to see more of what he has written.

Glad to oblige, Angel.

The Maid on the Shore

There is a young maiden she lived all alone,
She lived all alone on the shore-o
There was nothing she could find to comfort her mind
But to roam all alone on the shore shore shore,
But to roam all alone on the shore.


Twas of the young captain who sailed the salt sea,
Let the wind blow high blow low.
I will die I will die the young captain did cry
If I don't have that maid on the shore shore shore,
if I don't have that maid on the shore.


I have lots of silver I have lots of gold,
I have lots of costly ware-o
I'd divide I'll dived with my jolly ships crew
If they row me the maid on the shore shore shore
If they row me the maid on the shore.


After much persuasion they got her aboard
Let the wind blow high, blow low
They replaced her away in his cabin below,
Here's adieu to all sorrow and care care care
Here's adieu to all sorrow and care


They replaced her away in his cabin
Let the wind blow high blow low
She's so pretty and sweet she's so neat and complete,
She sung captain and sailors to sleep sleep sleep
She sung captain and sailors to sleep.


Then she robbed 'em of silver she robbed 'em of gold,
She robbed him of costly ware-o
Then she took his broad sword instead of an oar
And paddled her way to the shore shore shore
And paddled her way to the shore.


Me men must be crazy me men must be mad.
Me men must be deep in despair-o
For to let you away from my Cabin so gay
And paddle your way to the shore shore shore
And paddle your way to the shore.


Your men was not crazy your men was not mad,
Your men is not deep in despair-o.
I deluded your sailors as well as yourself,
I'm a maiden again on the shore shore shore.
I'm a maiden again on the shore.
Twas of a young maiden how lived all alone,
she lived all alone on the shore

Applauds feverishly


WONDERFUL!!!! Sounds like that woman had the know of it

Oldraven, I heard a version of Northwest Passage that's done by Tom Lewis and the Poles Apart Chorus on the folk show Sun nite. Never heard that particular song done in Polish before!

In Polish? I'd imagine not.

I guess it speaks to quite a few of us.

hmmm, are we gonna get more??

The House of Orange
(one of Stan's only political works, about the War in Northern Ireland)

I took back my hand and I showed him the door
No dollar of mine would I part with this day
For fueling the engines of bloody cruel war
In my forefather's land far away.
Who fled the first Famine wearing all that they owned,
Were called 'Navigators', all ragged and torn,
And built the Grand Trunk here, and found a new home
Wherever their children were born.

Their sons have no politics. None call recall
Allegiance from long generations before.
O'this or O'that name just can't mean a thing
Or be cause enough for to war.
And meanwhile my babies are safe in their home,
Unlike their pale cousins who cower and cry
While kneecappers nail their poor Dads to the floor
And teach them to hate and to die.

It's those cruel beggars who spurn the fair coin.
The peace for their kids they could take at their will.
Since the day old King Billy prevailed at the Boyne,
They've bombed and they've slain and they've killed.
Now they cry out for money and wail at the door
But Home Rule or Republic, 'tis all of it shame;
And a curse for us here who want nothing of war.
We're kindred in nothing but name.

All rights and all wrongs have long since blown away,
For causes are ashes where children lie slain.
Yet the damned U.D.L. and the cruel I.R.A.
Will tomorrow go murdering again.
But no penny of mine will I add to the fray.
"Remember the Boyne!" they will cry out in vain,
For I've given my heart to the place I was born
And forgiven the whole House of Orange
King Billy and the whole House of Orange.

How do you think he was feeling when he wrote this one?

Bluenose

Once again with the tide she slips her lines
Turns her head and comes awake
Where she lay so still there at Privateer's Wharf
Now she quickly gathers way
She will range far south from the harbour mouth
And rejoice with every wave
Who will know the Bluenose in the sun

Feel her bow rise free of Mother Sea
In a sunburst cloud of spray
That stings the cheek while the rigging will speak
Of sea-miles gone away
She is always best under full press
Hard over as she'll lay
And who will know the Bluenose in the sun?

That proud, fast Queen of the Grand Banks Fleet
Portrayed on every dime
Knew hard work in her time...hard work in every line
The rich men's toys of the Gloucester boys
With their token bit of cod
They snapped their spars and strained to pass her by
But she left them all behind

Now her namesake daughter remains to show what she has been
What every schoolboy remembers and will not come again
To think she's the last of the Grand Banks Schooners
That fed so many men
And who will know the Bluenose in the sun?

So does she not take wing like a living thing
Child of the moving tide
See her pass with grace on the water's face
With clean and quiet pride
Our own tall ship of great renown still lifts unto the sky
Who will know the Bluenose in the sun?

heh, I can't spell the word I want to put here so bare with me but I will attempt it...
EXQUISITE!! (sp?)
HUGGGGGLES and Ruffles your feathers!