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I am so proud of this song. My father, Jerry Whitmire, used to read this poem to me when I was a young child. The lyrics are from William Allingham, and were written around 1890.
I've done some research on These Particular Red-Capped Trooping Faeries ~ and I believe there is some historical precedent in the hard troubled histories of Ireland-Scotland animosities... trooping faeries... stealing "Brigid" the Mother Goddess -- things being different afterwards... these particular fae being so feared -- and what was that Red Cap all about anyway? I'll leave you to delve.
The arrangement is all mine. I can't tell you how it happened but it happened. I believe this melody / arrangement could have been channeled from the Ancestral DNA as well -- similarly to my other track "Dyin' Day Oh".
Enjoy!
lyrics
Lyrics William Allingham (1824-1889)
Chords/Melody: Michael Whitmire
A A D A / G G G A
A E A D / D A ED A
The Fairies
UP the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And a white owl's feather!
Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the Black Mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake.
They stole little Bridget
For seven years long;
When she came down again
Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back,
Between the night and morrow,
They thought that she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag-leaves,
Watching till she wake.
By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring
As dig them up in spite,
He shall find their sharpest thorns
In his bed at night.
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And a white owl's feather!
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