(Created page with "Trad. Slight filk and last verse by Daisy. Tune is [http://www.8notes.com/scores/6525.asp here], guitar tab [http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk/songs-tab/Lovely_Joan.htm here]...")
 
No edit summary
 
(2 intermediate revisions by one other user not shown)
Line 1: Line 1:
Trad. Slight filk and last verse by Daisy.
Trad. Slight filk and last verse by Daisy.
NB The [[horse]] is now extinct in the Empire.


RECORDING by [http://www.madrigirls.org.uk Glasgow Madrigirls] [[Media:lovelyjoan.mp3]]
Tune is [http://www.8notes.com/scores/6525.asp here], guitar tab [http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk/songs-tab/Lovely_Joan.htm here]
Tune is [http://www.8notes.com/scores/6525.asp here], guitar tab [http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk/songs-tab/Lovely_Joan.htm here]


Line 34: Line 36:
Young Joan she never looked back again.
Young Joan she never looked back again.


She didn't think herself quite safe,
So all League men come and listen to me
No, not till she came to her true love's gate.
Never trust a maid for her beauty
She's robbed him of his horse and ring,
She'll rob you of your horse and ring
And left him to rage in the meadows green.  
And leave you to rage in the meadows green.  
</song>
</song>


Edit the categories appropriately. This is important.
[[Category:League Music]]
[[Category:League Music]]
[[Category:The League]]
[[Category:The League]]
[[Category:Music]]
[[Category:Music]]

Latest revision as of 12:04, 3 March 2021

Trad. Slight filk and last verse by Daisy. NB The horse is now extinct in the Empire.

RECORDING by Glasgow Madrigirls Media:lovelyjoan.mp3 Tune is here, guitar tab here

A fine young man he was indeed, He was mounted on his milk-white steed; He rode, he rode himself all alone, Until he came to lovely Joan.

"Good morning to you, pretty maid" And "Twice good morning, sir", she said. He gave her a wink, she rolled her eye Says he to himself,"I'll be there by and by."

"Oh don't you think those pooks of hay A pretty place for us to play? So come with me like a sweet young thing And I'll give you my golden ring."

Then he pulled off his ring of gold "My pretty little miss, do this behold. I'd freely give it for your maidenhead And her cheeks they blushed like the roses red."

"Give me that ring into my hand And I will neither stay nor stand, For this would do more good to me Than twwenty maidenheads," said she.

And as he made for the pooks of hay She leaped on his horse and tore away He called, he called, but it was all in vain Young Joan she never looked back again.

So all League men come and listen to me Never trust a maid for her beauty She'll rob you of your horse and ring And leave you to rage in the meadows green.