| She sat down below a thorn Fine flowers in the valley And there she has her sweet babe borne And the green leaves they grow rarely. Smile nae sae sweet, my bonnie babe Fine flowers in the valley An' ye smile sae sweet, ye'll smile me dead And the green leaves they grow rarely. She's ta'en out her little penknife Fine flowers in the valley And twinned the sweet babe o' its life And the green leaves they grow rarely. She howket a grave by the light o' the moon Fine flowers in the valley And there she's buried her sweet babe in And the green leaves they grow rarely. As she was going to the Church Fine flowers in the valley She saw a sweet babe in the porch And the green leaves they grow rarely. O sweet babe, an' thou wert mine Fine flowers in the valley I wad cleed thee in silk so fine And the green leaves they grow rarely. O mother dear, when I was thine Fine flowers in the valley You did na prove to me sae kind And the green leaves they grow rarely. |
| A minister's dochter in the North, Hey, the rose and the linsie O, She's fa'en in love wi' her faither's clerk, Doon by the greenwood sidie, O. She's coorted him a year and a day, Till her the young man did betray. She leaned her back against a tree, And there the tear did blin' her e'e. She leaned her back against a thorn, And there twa bonnie boys has she born. She's ta'en the napkin frae her neck, And made to them a winding sheet. She's ta'en oot her wee penknife, And quickly twined them o' their life. She's laid them 'neath a marble stane, Thinking to gang a maiden hame. She looked ower her faither's wa', And she's seen they twa bonnie boys at the ba'. "O, bonnie bairns, gin ye were mine, I would dress ye in the silk sae fine." "O, cruel mither, when we were thine, We didna see ocht o' the silk sae fine." "O, bonnie bairns, come tell to me, Whit kind o' a deith I'll hae to dee." "Seven year a fish in the flood, Seven year a bird in the wood. Seven years a tongue to the warning bell, Seven years in the caves o' hell." "Welcome, welcome, fish in the flood, Welcome, welcome, bird in the wood. Welcome, tongue to the warning bell, But God keep me frae the caves o' Hell." |
| Fine Flowers in the Valley (I've always liked this tune, but in reading the lyrics, I was pretty shocked. I guess this will be one song that I'll forego learning the lyrics and stick with the pretty tune!) Background Information This is a variant of "The Cruel Mother" (lyrics below these). There are a number of versions, all holding with the same terrible theme. In the 1690s a broadside was published with the words to a popular tune called "The Duke's Daughter's Cruelty: Or the Wonderful Apparition of two Infants whom she Murther'd and Buried in a Forrest, for to hide her Shame." This appears to be the earliest record of this song. Specific to America, there is also a version called "The Minister's Daughter of New York." |
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| Fine Flowers in the Valley |
| The Cruel Mother |
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