Song
cupboard T (b3)
The owl
The purple bamboo
The snow-white bird
The sweet nightingale
The Walloping Windowblind
The water is wide
The wraggle taggle gipsies
There ain’t no bugs on me
There was a good old woman
There was a man and he was mad
There were three jolly
fishermen
There once was a sow
There’s a fox in a box
There was a monkey
Last updated: 7/5/2021
2:22 PM
The songs below are part of ‘Away we
go’
compiled,
adapted and illustrated by Dany Rosevear
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To listen to music from these
songs click on 🔊
To watch the
author sing a song click on the title at:
© Dany Rosevear 2008 All rights reserved
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The owl 🔊 The first verse has been a nursery rhyme and is found in Haliwell’s ‘The Nursery
Rhymes of England’ published in 1842. This version can be found in ‘Songs of
the West’ by S. Baring-Gould; an early version was performed for Henry VIII. Find out more at: https://mainlynorfolk.info/steeleye.span/songs/ofallthebirds.html
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Of all the birds
that ever I see, The owl is the
fairest in her degree. For all the day
long she sits in a tree, And when the
night cometh, away flies she. Chorus To-whit! To-who!
says she, To who! Cinnamon, ginger,
nutmegs and cloves, And brandy gave
me my jolly red nose. The lark in the
morn ascendeth on high And leaves the
poor owl to sob and to sigh; And all the day
long, the owl is asleep, While little
birds blithely are singing, cheep! cheep! There's many a
brave bird boasteth awhile, And proves
himself great, let Providence smile, Be hills and be
vallies all covered with snow, The poor owl will
shiver and mock with Ho! Ho! |
The purple bamboo 🔊 Ready for the Chinese New Year. A Chinese folk song popular south of the
Yangtze River. It comes from the pentatonic song book ‘Just
five’ published in 1972. |
See, I bring to
you purple bamboo
shoot, Now 'twill make a lovely flute; But those lips so small Cannot play at all On a lovely golden flute. Chorus Ee-tee-tee, Soon will come the happy day, Ee-tee-tee, Soon will come the happy day, My friend the flute will play. You must try and grow like the bamboo tall, Then those parting lips so small Soon will play the flute Made from bamboo shoot; Silv’ry tunes will
gently fall. |
The snow-white bird 🔊 A soft,
gentle song to sing very quietly. This is a
16th century Flemish folksong. I adapted
this children’s version from: ‘The music box songbook’ published in 1987
where it was described as from the Netherlands. In
its traditional form it is a love song about a young fellow who sends a note
with a bird as a messenger to his sweetheart, who it sadly turns out has
recently married another! Some of the words have a symbolic meaning: the bird
representing a messenger of romantic feelings, the white colour stands for
innocence and the prickly bush a harbinger of bad news. |
There was a little snow-white
bird, There was a little snow-white
bird, A-sitting on a prickly thorn, Derry down down, A-sitting on a prickly thorn, Derry down. O nightingale, oh, little bird, O nightingale, oh, little bird, Oh,will you be my messenger? Derry down down, Oh, will you be my messenger? Derry down. How can I be your messenger, How can I be your messenger, For I am such a tiny bird, Derry down down, For I am such a tiny bird, Derry down. You may be small but you’re
swift of wing, You may be small but you’re
swift of wing, This letter to my true love
bring, Derry down down, This letter to my true love
bring, Derry down. She took the letter in her beak, And flew it over hill and creek, Above the forests dark she
soared, Derry down down, And dropped it at my true love’s
door, Derry down. |
The sweet nightingale 🔊 The school standard version can be found in
BBC School’s Time And Tune, Summer 1958. This one however is based on the version recorded by Margaret Chrystal, T. Bikel, C. Gooding as
I rather like the extra bird verses. Find out more at : https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=161744
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My sweetheart
come along! Don't you hear
the fond song? The sweet notes
of the nightingale flow? Don’t you hear
the fond tale Of the sweet
nightingale, As she sings in
the valley below, As she sings in
the valley below. Pretty Betsy,
don't fail, For I'll carry
your pail, Safe home to your
cottage we'll go; You shall hear
the fond tale Of the sweet
nightingale, As she sings in
the valley below.... Come sit yourself
down With me on the
ground, On the banks
where the primroses grow; You shall hear
the fond tale Of the sweet
nightingale, As she sings in
the valley below.... Down in yonder
grove, There is an
alcove, And violets
around it do spring; Just by in a
bush, There sits a song
thrush, 'Twill charm you
to hear how she sings.... Why hark, my
love, hark, Why yonder's a
lark, She warbles and
pleases me so; That the
beautiful tale Of the sweet
nightingale, Will never entice
me to go.... |
The Walloping
Windowblind 🔊 All at sea on a comical
voyage to a far off land. A nautical ballad based on
Charles Edward Carryl’s (1841-1920) poem. This version comes from ‘The funny
family songbook’ published 1984 by Esther L. Nelson. The original poem can be
found in Louis Untermeyer's ‘The Golden Treasury of Poetry’. |
A capital ship
for an ocean trip Was the Walloping
Windowblind. No gale that blew
dismayed her crew Nor troubled the
captain's mind. The man at the
wheel was made to feel Contempt for the
wildest blow-oh-oh. Though it often appeared
when the gale had cleared That he'd been in
his bunk below. Then blow ye
winds heigh-ho! A-roving I will
go! I'll stay no more
on England's shore, So let the music
play-ay-ay! I'm off on the
morning train I'll sail the
raging main, I'm off to my
love with a boxing glove, Ten thousand
miles away. The bosun's mate
was very sedate, Yet fond of
amusement too; He played
hopscotch with the starboard watch, While the captain
tickled the crew. And the gunner we
had was apparently mad, For he sat on the
after rail-ail-ail, And fired salutes
with the captain's boots In the teeth of a
booming gale. The captain sat
on the commodore's hat And dined in a
royal way On snails and
eels and cockatoo heels And pickles and
figs each day. The cook was new
and burnt the stew, So the diet he
served the crew-ew-ew Was a couple of
tons of hot cross buns Served up with
sugar and glue. |
The water is wide 🔊 This
version is from an old pocket book of songs that I wrote down from various
sources when at Teacher Training College in the 1960s; it seems very similar
to the one publihed in 1906 noted in Cecil Sharp and
Charles Marson ‘Folk Songs From
Somerset’. |
The water is
wide, I cannot get o'er, And neither have
I wings to fly. Give me a boat
that will carry two, And both shall
row, my love and I. Down in the meadows
the other day, A-gath'ring
flow'rs both fine and gay, A-gathering
flowers, both red and blue, I little thought
what love can do. I put my hand
into the bush, Thinking the
fairest flower to find. I pricked my
finger to the bone, But oh, I left the
rose behind. I leaned my back
against an oak, Thinking it was a
trusty tree; But first it
bended and then it broke; And so did my
false love to me. A ship there is
and she sails on the sea, She’s loaded deep
as deep can be, But not as deep
as the love I'm in; I know not if I
sink or swim. Oh, love is
handsome and love is kind, And love’s a
jewel when first it’s new, But love grows
old and groweth cold, And fades away
like the morning dew. The water is
wide, I cannot get o'er, And neither have
I wings to fly. Give me a boat
that will carry two, And both shall
row, my love and I. |
The wraggle
taggle gipsies 🔊 There are many variants of this song across the English speaking world;
this one is from ‘English folk songs for schools’ collected and arranged by
S.Baring Gould and Cecil J Sharp, published circa 1900. It seems very similar
to the version I learnt in school in the 1950s but no longer remember well! |
Three gipsies stood at
the castle gate, They sang so high,
they sang so low. The lady sat in her
chamber late, Her heart it melted
away like snow. They sang so sweet,
they sang so shrill, That fast her tears
began to flow And she laid down her
silken gown, Her golden rings and
all her show. She pluck-ed off her
high-heeled shoes, All made of Spanish
leather, O. And it’s off in the
street, with her bare, bare feet; All out in the wind
and weather, O. O saddle to me my milk-white
steed, And go and fetch my
pony, O! That I may ride and
seek my bride, Who is gone with the
wraggle taggle gipsies, O! O he rode high, and he
rode low, He rode through wood
and copses too, Until he came to an
open field, And there he espied
his lady, O! What makes you leave
your house and land? Your golden treasures
for to go? What makes you leave
your new-wedded lord, To follow the wraggle
taggle gipsies, O? What care I for my
house and land? What care I for my
treasure, O? What care I for my new-wedded
lord, I'm off with the
wraggle taggle gipsies, O! Last night you slept
on a goose-feather bed, With the sheet turned
down so bravely, O! And to-night you'll
sleep in a cold open field, Along with the wraggle
taggle gipsies, O! What care I for a
goose-feather bed, With the sheet turned
down so bravely, O! For to-night I shall
sleep in a cold open field, Along with the wraggle
taggle gipsies, O! |
This humourous nonsense song was recorded
in1928 by Fiddlin’ John Carson. The verses like the last line often go on ad
infinitum and have many in common with other songs such as ‘It ain’t gonna
rain no more’ which with a dance can be found on my website: http://www.singinggamesforchildren.com/A%20Cluster%202.2%20Awaywego/9%20Aint%20it%20great%20to%20be%20crazy%20w.htm
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Chorus: There ain’t no bugs on
me, There ain’t no bugs on
me, There may be bugs on
some of you mugs, But there ain’t no
bugs on me. Well, the Juney bug
comes in the month of June, The lightning bug
comes in May, Bed bug comes just any
old time, But, they’re not going
to stay. Well, a bull frog
sittin’ on a lily pad, Looking up at the sky, The lily pad broke and
the frog fell in, He got water all in
his eye…ball. Chorus Mosquito he fly high, Mosquito he fly low, If old mosquito lands
on me, He ain’t a gonna fly
no mo’. We had a cat down on
our farm, It had a ball of yarn, When those little cats
were born, They all had sweaters
on. Chorus As I went walking
through the woods, Humming a tune so
gaily, The wind came
whistling through the trees, And froze my ukelele. Well little bugs have
littler bugs, Up on their backs to
bite ’em, And the littler bugs
have still littler bugs, And so on ad
infinitum. Chorus |
There was a good old
woman O A French-Canadian folk song, ‘En allant au
marché’ which comes from ‘Vieilles
chansons de Nouvele-France’. By adding the last line of the previous
verse each time the song is sung it can be sung
cumulatively. |
There was a good old
woman to market on her way. The basket on her head
was full of eggs that day. But suddenly the eggs
fell out And they went rolling
all about, The eggs went rolling,
rolling, rolling all about. …ducks… …quacking… …hens… …clucking… …pigs… …squealing… …turkeys… …gobbling… |
There was a man and he
was mad O |
There was a man and he
was mad, And he jumped into the
pudding bag! The pudding bag, it
was so fine, That he jumped into a
bottle of wine. The bottle of wine, it
was so clear, He jumped into a
bottle of beer. The bottle of beer, it
was so thick, He jumped onto a
walking stick. The walking stick, it
was so narrow, That he jumped into a
wheelbarrow. The wheelbarrow began
to crack, He jumped onto a
horse's back. The horse's back began
to break, So, he jumped into a
chocolate cake. The chocolate cake
became so rotten, That he jumped into a
bag of cotton. The bag of cotton
caught on fire And blew him up to
Jeremiah. Spoken: Pouf! Pouf! Pouf! |
There was a monkey O This nursery rhyme can be found in print, in a shorter version, as
early as 1626 Find out more at: http://www.rhymes.org.uk/a93-there-was-a-monkey.htm
The version below came from BBC Broadcast to schools, Time and tune
Autumn1960. |
There was a monkey
climbed up a tree, When he fell down, then
down fell he. There was a crow sat
on a stone, When he was gone, then
there was none. There was an old wife
did eat an apple, When she had eaten
two, she had eaten a couple. There was a horse
going to the mill, When he went on, he
stood not still. There was a butcher
cut his thumb, When it did bleed,
then blood did come. There was a lackey ran
a race, When he ran fast, he
ran apace. There was a cobbler
clouting shoon*, When they were mended,
they were done. There was a chandler
making candle, When he them stripped,
he did them handle. There was a navy went
to Spain, When it returned, it
came again. |
There were three jolly
fishermen O This
is a popular song in the scouting movement especially |
There were three jolly
fishermen, There were three jolly
fishermen, Fisher, fishermen,
men, men, Fisher, fishermen,
men, men, There were three jolly
fishermen. The first one's name
was Abraham, The first one's name
was Abraham, Abra, Abraham ham,
ham… The second one's name
was I-I-saac, The second one's name
was I-I-saac, I-I, I-Isaac saac,
saac... The third on'e name
was Ja-a-cob, The third on'e name
was Ja-a-cob, Ja-a, Ja-acob, cob,
cob... They all went down to
Jericho, They all went down to
Jericho, Jer-i, Jer-icho, cho,
cho… They should have gone
to Amsterdam, They should have gone
to Amsterdam, Amster, Amster, Shh!
Shh! Shh! Amster, Amster, Shh!
Shh! Shh!, You shouldn't say that
naughty word! |
There once was a sow O A very sad pig tale!
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There’s a fox in a box O This song by Barbara Ireson has been adapted many times in my
classrooms and is there for adapting to your particular topic; the tune too
has changed over the years, many apologies Barbara. The main objectives are to make up rhymes and of course have lots of
fun while doing so.
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