Songs in Joy to My Love
Updated: Jan 25, 2019
There are a couple of songs in the novel that are pretty obscure. I've put the full lyrics for both songs here and links (click on the title) to the music.
"BLACK IS THE COLOUR"
The lyrics of "Black is the Colour," may be more well-known with a modern American tune. The song probably came to the United States from the Scots who settled in the Appalachia area. The Clyde is a river in Glasgow, Scotland which gives a clue to its origins. The link is to the old Scottish tune. There's also a good rendition of this old tune by Irish singer, Christy Moore.
But Black is the colour of my true love's hair. His face is like some rosy fair, The prettiest face and the neatest hands, I love the ground whereon he stands.
I love my love and well he knows, I love the ground whereon he goes, If you no more on earth I see, I can't serve you as you have me.
The winter's passed and the leaves are green, The time is passed that we have seen, But still I hope the time will come When you and I shall be as one.
I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep, But satisfied I never could sleep. I'll write to you a few short lines, I'll suffer death ten thousand times.
So fare you well, my own true love The time has passed, but I wish you well. But still I hope the time will come When you and I will be as one.
I love my love and well he knows, I love the ground whereon he goes. The prettiest face, the neatest hands, I love the ground whereon he stands.
"JOY TO THE PERSON OF MY LOVE"
"Joy to the Person of My Love" is a Scottish song of unrequited love from the 17th century. I took part of this song as the title of my novel, Joy to My Love. In the novel, Effie changes "she" to "he" as she sings about her love for Calum. I've kept the 17th century spelling.
Joy to the Person of My Love (there's a long instrumental introduction you could skip)
Joy to the person of my love Although she me distain. Fixt are my thoughts and may not move And yet I love in vain. Shall I lose the sight of my joy and heart's delight? Or shall I cease my sute? Shall I strive to touch? Oh, no, it were too much; She is forbidden fruit. Oh, woe is me, that ever I did see The beauty that did me bewitch. Yet, our alace! I must forgo that face The tresour I esteem'd so much.
A thousand good fortuns fall to her share Although she hath rejected me And fill'd my sad heart full of despaire Yet ever shall I constant be. For she is the Dame that my tongue shall ever name Fair branch of modestie. Choise of heart and mind, Oh, were she half so kind Then would she pitie me. Sweet, turn at last, be kind as thou art chast And let me in thy heart dwell. Then shall we gain the pleasur of love's pain. Till then, my deirest deir, farewell.