%images;]>AFCCC-LASSOThe Lass of Glen Shee: a machine-readable transcription.Collection: Ethnic Folk Music from Northern California, 1938-1940, Part I; American Memory, Library of Congress.Selected and converted.American Memory, Library of Congress.

Washington, 1994.

Preceding element provides place and date of transcription only.

This transcription intended to be 99.95% accurate.

For more information about this text and this American Memory collection, refer to accompanying matter.

W.P.A. California Folk Music Project collection, 1938-1940, American Folklife Center, Library of Congress.Copyright status not determined.0001

16E-A1 W. F. THE LASS OF GLEN SHEE

Ward E. Ford singing from Central Valley, California. The song THE LASS OF GLEN SHEE learned from Steve MacGinty of Bear Creek Wisconsin, about fifty years ago.

One bright summer's morning as the day was a-dawning, Bright Phoebus arose and shone o'er the sea, I espied a fair femal female as homeward I was riding; She was hearding herding her flocks on the hills of Glen Shee. Her cheeks were like roses and unto them dimples, And keen was the blink of her bonnie black eyes. She was neat, tall and handsome, her ways ? so enchanting That my heart soon belonged to the lass of Glen Shee. I stepped up unto her and said to her kindly, If she would not go along to Saint Johnstown with me, No one in this wide world shall equal your castle, No one shall be clothed any finer then thee. They'll say, "Look at him yonder with his highland lady." "Stuck up like a doll in the window," said she, "Stuck up like a witch in your [?] homespun claddie ? A-herding,your flocks on the hill hills of Glen Shee." Nie, believe me bonnie lassie, Caledonia's bright waters Will all change their course and flow back from the sea, And the revolving sun shall be bound down in fetters, Before I prove false to my darling Jennie. 00022 THE LASS OF GLEN SHEE "No, don't tease me any longer for fear I might blunder, Which would cause all your kinfolk to laugh at me, For they're puffed up in manners, both the older and the younger," Cried the innocent lassie, poor maid of Glen Shee. "Don't talk of such nonsense, but get up here beside me, 'Fore the sun it rolls round, oh, my bride you shall be, Before night in my arms I will fondly embrace you." She smiled and consented, I took her with me. Many years have rolled round since we two were united, Many seasons have changed,but there's no change in me; My love is as pure as the rose on yonder mountain, That lies out and gets bleached by the dews of Glen Shee.