Another song, widely scattered in varying versions throughout France, is of the forsaken and too trustful maid,-'En revenant des Noces.' The narrative in this, as in the Scottish song, makes it approach the ballad. BACK from the wedding-feast, All weary by the way, I rested by a fount And watched the waters' play; And at the fount I bathed, And with a leaf of oak Because I gave my rose Ah, would to God that rose Would that the rosebush, even, Would that my lover Pierre 1 See Tiersot, 'La Chanson Populaire, p. 103, with the music. The final verses, simple as they are, are not rendered even remotely well. They run: Que je suis sa fidèle amie, Et que vers lui je tends les bras. 2 Tiersot, p. 90. In many versions there is further complication with king and queen and the lover. This song is extremely popular in Canada. The corresponding Scottish song, beautiful enough for any land or age, is the well-known Waly, Waly': OH WALY, waly, up the bank, And waly, waly, down the brae, And waly, waly, yon burn-side, I lean'd my back unto an aik, I thought it was a trusty tree; Oh waly, waly, but love be bonny And fades away like morning dew. Oh wherefore should I busk my head? For my true-love has me forsook, And says he'll never love me mair. Now Arthur's Seat shall be my bed, The sheets shall ne'er be fyled by me; Saint Anton's well shall be my drink, Since my true-love has forsaken me. Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw And shake the green leaves off the tree? 'Tis not the frost that freezes fell, Nor blawing snaw's inclemency; But my love's heart grown cauld to me. 'Lightly (a verb) is to treat with contempt, to undervalue. burden quoted by Chappell, p. 458, and very old: The bonny broome, the well-favored broome, The broome blooms faire on hill; And I working her will? Compare the When we came in by Glasgow town, We were a comely sight to see; But had I wist, before I kissed, That love had been sae ill to win, Oh, oh, if my young babe were born, And I myself were dead and gone, [And the green grass growing over me!] The same ballad touch overweighs even the lyric quality of the verses about Yarrow: "WILLY'S rare, and Willy's fair, "Oh came you by yon water-side? Or came you by yon meadow green? She sought him east, she sought him west, She sought him brade and narrow; Syne, in the clifting of a craig, She found him drowned in Yarrow.2 Returning to Germany and to pure lyric, we have a pretty bit which is attached to many different songs. 1 Promised. HIGH up on yonder mountain A mill-wheel clatters round, And, night or day, naught else but love Within the mill is ground. The mill has gone to ruin, And love has had its day; God bless thee now, my bonnie lass, I wander far away.' 2 Child's Ballads, vii. 179. Böhme, p. 271. But there is a more cheerful vein in this sort of song; and the mountain offers pleasanter views: OH YONDER on the mountain, Yes, morning, Three maids go in and out.1 The first she is my sister, The second well is known, The third, I will not name her, No, name her, And she shall be my own! Finally, that pearl of German folk-song, 'Innsprück.' The wanderer must leave the town and his sweetheart; but he swears to be true, and prays that his love be kept safe till his return: INNSPRÜCK, I must forsake thee, My weary way betake me Unto a foreign shore, And all my joy hath vanished, I bear a load of sorrow, Dear love, from thee alone. When he is far from home. My one true love! Forever Shall our dear vow be vain. Now must our Lord God ward thee, In leaving the subject of folk-song, it is necessary for the reader not only to consider anew the loose and unscientific way in which this term has been employed, but also to bear in mind that few of the above specimens can lay claim to the title in any rigid classification. Long ago, a German critic reminded zealous collectors of his The rhyme in German leaves even more to be desired. day that when one has dipped a pailful of water from the brook, one has captured no brook; and that when one has written down a folk-song, it has ceased to be that eternally changing, momentary, spontaneous, dance-begotten thing which once flourished everywhere as communal poetry. Always in flux, if it stopped it ceased to be itself. Modern lyric is deliberately composed by some one, mainly to be sung by some one else; the old communal lyric was sung by the throng and was made in the singing. When festal excitement at some great communal rejoicing in the life of clan or tribe "fought its battles o'er again," the result was narrative communal song. disguised and baffled survival of this most ancient narrative is the popular ballad. Still more disguised, still more baffled, is the purely lyrical survival of that old communal and festal song; and the best one can do is to present those few specimens found under conditions which preserve certain qualities of a vanished world of poetry. A It may be asked why the contemporary songs found among Indian tribes of our continent, or among remote islanders in low stages of culture, should not reproduce for us the old type of communal verse. The answer is simple. Tribes which have remained in low stages of culture do not necessarily retain all the characteristics of primitive life among races which had the germs of rapidly developing culture. That communal poetry which gave life to the later epic of Hellenic or of Germanic song must have differed materially, no matter in what stage of development, from the uninteresting and monotonous chants of the savage. Moreover, the specimens of savage verse which we know retain the characteristics of communal verse, while they lack its nobler and vital quality. The dance, the spontaneous production, repetition, these are all marked characteristics of savage verse. But savage verse cannot serve as model for our ideas of primitive folk song. ere. |