Тексты песен Alasdair Roberts

Raise me high, raise me high, That I may see my fallen kindred seated. Who met with death upon the battlefield, Who, in the end, fell and were defeated. And the way they were tricked by death, Betraye

I am a young man that's inclined to seek pleasure, Inclined to seek pleasure, inclined to seek pride. Flashing my finery, flashing my treasure, Swaggering out in my livery tie. But still I remember th

I went hunting in the morning, Polly, When the geese were in the field. I went hunting in the morning, Polly, The geese were in the field. Then I saw a woman changing From a woman to a gosling. Then I

I am a poor young girl That's straight from Callander. I'm in search of Lord Gregory-- Pray God I find him! The rain beats my yellow locks And the dew wets me still, My babe is cold in my arms-- Lord

Oh, where have you been to, Lord Ronald, my son? Oh, where have you been to, my handsome young man? I've been to the green wood Mother, make my bed soon For I'm weary 'o hunting And fain would lie dow

Come all you young fathers that handle a gun, Beware of night-rambling by the setting of the sun. And beware of an accident that happened of late, To young Molly Bawn, and sad was her fate. She was go

When I was a wee thing, I heard my mother say That I was a rambler, and easy led astray. Before that I would work, I would rather sport and play With my Johnny on the banks for red roses. On the banks

Show me the power that man cannot harness To turn toward malice or work into woe. Be it the stars or the moon or the planets Or the tide of the ocean in ever encircling flow Or everything under the ev

Oh Father, Father, come build me a boat, That o'er this ocean wide I may float, And every ship that I chance to meet, I will inquire for my William sweet. We had not sailed for half an hour, Before we

Oh if I was the king I would make you the queen I would roll you in my arms where the meadows are green I would roll you in my arms Lay you down to rest Beside my Irish fairy in the magpie's nest For

As I roved out one Shrovetide Eve Among the bramble and the cloudberry It's then I heard a melody A-blowing over the Northern Sea: The song of the old men of the shells The old men of the shells, my b

I know she rose early, for I heard her sweet singing Echoing over the flowering heath. She gathered the willow, the elder, the linden, The holly, the ivy twined into a wreath. Oh, the notes you are fo

Waxwing, waxwing, what do you bring From the frozen North? Waxwing, waxwing, we've been waiting on you. I bring the amber that I have gathered On the northern seashore. For the hatchlings I have fathe

She wore the guise of a winter squall Blowing through my empty hall, With rime on window, frost on sill, And icicle on gable bell. Then she wore the guise of fallow doe, As great with young as she cou