Digital Tradition Mirror

Felton Lonnen

Felton Lonnen

 The kye's come hyem, but Aa see not me hinny;
 the kye's come hyem, but Aa see not me bairn;
 Aa'd rather loss aall the kye than loss me bairn.
 Fair faced is me hinny, his blue eyes are bonny,
 his hair in curled ringlets hung sweet to the sight;
 O mount the old pony, seek after me hinny,
 and bring to his mammy her only delight.

 He's always out roamin' the lang summer's day through,
 he's always out roamin' away from the farm;
 through hedges and ditches and valleys and fellsides,
 Aa hope that me hinny will come to no harm.
 Well, Aa've searched in the meadow and in the far acre,
 through stockyard and byre, but nowt could Aa find;
 so off ye go, daddy, seek after your laddie,
 bring back to his mammy some peace to her mind.

 Well, Aa rode doon the beck and alang the owld lonnen
 as far as the sheep stell, and up to Crag height;
 Aa searched all the way, but Aa still havent't found him,
 but don't you fret, mother, Aa'm sure he's aalright.
 He could be in the woods after Robson's horse chestnuts
 or pickin' crab-apples on Laidler's Fell,
 or mebbies he's somewhere aboot in the buildings;
 he'd not leave without saying, you know very well

 Well, look you here, Mother, we found the wee rascal
 and you'll never guess where the young devil got-
 asleep in Ben's manger with Jess and her puppies,
 as safe and as snug as he does in his cot.
 He left aall the flowers he'd pick on the wallend
 and the other treasures Aa found there as well;
 a dead butterfly and some pheasant's tail feathers,
 some purple sloe berries and a blackbird's eggshell.

 The kye's come hyem, and Aa found me bit laddie;
 the kye comes hyem, and Aa found me bit bairn.
 Thank goodness he's safe, me wee precious jewel,
 tucked up in the stable and come to nee hairm.
 Noo sit ye doon, Daddy, tuck in to your supper,
 it's your favourite bait, hot taties and meat,
 and a bit for the bairn, to grow like his Daddy;
 now me family's safe and hyem for the neet.

There are many songs already in the database from the 'Voices: Traditional Engli
sh Songs"
 (1991)' CD. Here's one to join them. It is very close to what Jez Lowe sings on
 that CD, but the
 version I post comes from 'Singing Hinnies', Twenty favourite songs from the No
rth East of
 England, arr. by Derek Hobbs. It is a challenging song to understand. I even do
 not understand
 the title. Any help? 'Hinny', for example, I guess is not what I find in my dic
tionary for it (a
 horse-ass hybrid), but perhaps a local dialect for 'honey'? By the way, for tho
se who know the
 tune, is the tune identical to a tune called Felton Lonnin? (vv 2 & 5: * Johnny
 Handle, vv. 3 &
 4: * Eddies Charles). [WH]

From J. Bruce and J. Stokoe's 'Northumbrian Minstrelsy', 1882 (reprinted last ye
ar in UK).
 Fragment (without music) in Cuthbert Sharp's 'The Bishoprick Garland', 1834. [W
BO?]

Does this make it any more understandable? [MM]

 The cow's come home, but I see not my honey;
 the cow's come home, but I see not my bairn;
 I'd rather lose all the cows than lose my bairn.
 Fair faced is my honey, his blue eyes are bonny;
 his hair in curled ringlets hung sweet to the sight;
 O mount the old pony, seek after my honey;
 and bring to his mammy her only delight.

 He's always out roamin' the long summer's day through;
 he's always out roamin' away from the farm;
 through hedges and ditches and valleys and fellsides;
 I hope that my honey will come to no harm.
 Well, I've searched in the meadow and in the far acre;
 through stockyard and byre, but naught could I find;
 so off ye go, daddy, seek after your laddie;
 bring back to his mammy some peace to her mind.

 Well, I rode down the beck and along the old lonnen
 as far as the sheep stell, and up to Crag height;
 I searched all the way, but I still havent't found him;
 but don't you fret, mother, I'm sure he's allright.
 He could be in the woods after Robson's horse chestnuts
or pickin' crab-apples on Laidler's Fell;
 or maybe he's somewhere about in the buildings;
 he'd not leave without saying, you know very well

 Well, look you here, Mother, we found the wee rascal
 and you'll never guess where the young devil got-
 asleep in Ben's manger with Jess and her puppies;
 as safe and as snug as he does in his cot.
 He left all the flowers he'd picked on the wallend
 and the other treasures I found there as well;
 a dead butterfly and some pheasant's tail feathers;
 some purple sloe berries and a blackbird's eggshell.

 The cow's come home, and I found my bit laddie;
 the cows comes home, and I found my bit bairn.
 Thank goodness he's safe, my wee precious jewel;
 tucked up in the stable and come to no harm.
 Now sit ye down, Daddy, tuck in to your supper,
 it's your favourite bait, hot taties and meat,
 and a bit for the bairn, to grow like his Daddy;
 now my family's safe and home for the night.

 "bairn" is "child" "stell" I imagine is "pasture"

WH + MM
oct99

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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