Stanley Allison Rogers (November 29, 1949 – June 2, 1983) was a Canadian folk musician and songwriter.
Rogers was noted for his rich, baritone voice and his traditional-sounding songs which were frequently inspired by Canadian history and the daily lives of working people, especially those from the fishing villages of the Maritime provinces and, later, the farms of the Canadian prairies and Great Lakes. Rogers died in a fire aboard Air Canada Flight 797 on the ground at the Greater Cincinnati Airport at the age of 33.
¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------# #This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the # #song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. # #------------------------------------------------------------------------------## From: [email protected] (Doug Merrett) Subject: Stan Rogers - Witch of the Westmorland
This song was actually written by Archie Fisher, as I believe was Giant.
Doug Merrett
The Witch of the Westmorland Archie Fisher
GCGEm7 Pale was the wounded knight that bore the rowan shield
GD7EmCD Loud and cruel were the raven's cries that feasted on the field
GCGEm7 Saying beck water cold and clear will never clean your wound
GD7EmCD There's none but the witch of the Westmorland can make thee hale and sound
GCGEm7 So turn, turn your stallion's head til his red mane flies in the wind
GD7EmCD And the rider of the moon goes by and the bright star falls behind
GCGEm7 And clear was the paley moon when his shadow passed him by
GD7EmCD Below the hills were the brightest stars when he heard the owlet cry
GCGEm7 Saying "Why do you ride this way, and wherefore came you here?"
GD7EmCD "I seek the Witch of the Westmorland who dwells by the winding mere"
GCGEm7 And it's weary by the Ullswater and the misty brake fern way
GD7EmCD Til through the cleft of the Kirkstone Pass the winding water lay
GCGEm7 He said "Lie down, my brindled hound, and rest ye, my good grey hawk"
GD7EmCD And thee, my steed, may graze thy fill for I must dismount and walk
GCGEm7 But come when you hear my horn and answer swift the call
GD7EmCD For I fear ere the sun will rise this morn ye will serve me best of all."
GCGEm7 And it's down to the water's brim he's born the rowan shield
GD7EmCD And the goldenrod he has cast in to see what the lake might yield
GCGEm7 And wet rose she from the lake, and fast and fleet went she
GD7EmCD One half the form of a maiden fair with a jet black mare's body
GCGEm7 And loud, long and shrill he blew til his steed was by his side
GD7EmCD High overhead the grey hawk flew and swiftly he did ride
GCGEm7 Say "Course well, my brindled hound, and fetch me the jet black mare
GD7EmCD Stoop and strike, my good grey hawk, and bring me the maiden fair."
GCGEm7 She said "Pray, sheathe thy silvery sword. Lay down thy rowan shield
GD7EmCD For I see by the briny blood that flows you've been wounded in the field"
GCGEm7 And she stood in a gown of velvet blue, bound round with a silver chain
GD7EmCD and she's kissed his pale lips one and twice and three times round again
GCGEm7 And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod, full fast in her arms he lay
GD7EmCD and he has risen hale and sound with the sun high in the day
GCGEm7 She said "Ride with your brindled hound at heel and your good grey hawk in hand
GD7EmCD There's none can harm the knight who's lain with the Witch of the Westmorland"