> Folk Music > Songs > Corachree


[ Roud 7184 ; G/D 7:1468 ; Ballad Index GrD71468 ; Mudcat 161450 ; trad.]

Norman Kennedy sang Corachree on his 1968 Folk-Legacy album Ballads and Songs of Scotland, which was issued in the same year on the Topic label too with the title Scots Songs and Ballads. Peter Hall commented in the first album’s sleeve notes:

This very fine, but little known, love song was noted only once by the Aberdeenshire collector, Gavin Greig, and then in a less complete form than that sung here. We owe its survival into present times to Jimmy McBeath, from whom Norman learned many songs.

Jimmy Hutchison sang Corachree as the title track of his 2000 Tradition Bearers album of Scots songs and ballads, Corachree. He commented in the album’s booklet:

I have this from Norman Kennedy who learnt it from Jimmy McBeath. A very honest Aberdeenshire love song, showing not only deep feeling and passion, but also reflecting the very hard life led by the farm workers at the time. None of your red, red roses here. This was my wife Maggie’s favourite song.

Katherine Campbell included The Rigs o’ Gorrachree, as sung by James W. Spence (1867-1928), in her 2009 book of songs from the Greig-Duncan folk song collection, Songs From North-East Scotland.


Norman Kennedy sings Corachree

’Twas on a summer’s evening I gaed oot tae tak’ the air,
When comin’ in by Tarland toon, I spied a lonely pair.
The youth was tall an’ handsome an’ the maid was fair tae see,
And I kenn’t their destination wasna far fae Corachree.

’Twas looks an’ coaxt’er motions as they did pass me by.
The sun was set, the nicht was fine, I heard what they did say.
I pulled my plaidie roond me and I set my cap agee.
’Twas a’ to watch their motions comin’ in by Corachree.

Half way up the avenue they baith sat doon tae rest.
He put his arms aroond her sayin’, “My dear, I love ye best.
A maiden ye hae setten doon, a maid ye’re aye tae me,
But a maiden ye’ll ne’er walk again on the grass o’ Corachree.”

“Oh, Sandy, lad, ye’ll ne’er deny this deed that ye hae daen.
My apron strings are broken, Lord, my hair flees wi’ the wind.
My maidenheid has ta’en a fright, it’s fairly flown awa’.
And the session clerk’ll get tae ken this deen ye’ve daen tae me.”

“Cheer up, my bonnie lassie, ye needna care a fig.
There’s mony’s the bonnie lassie gae’s daily on the rig.
There’s mony’s the bonnie lassie, aye, and just as guid as ye,
But a maiden ye’ll ne’er walk again on the grass o’ Corachree.”

He comes doon in the evenin’ as often as he can;
He comes doon in the evenin’ just tae see his lonely Ann.
They talk their lane o’ auld lang syne when naebody can see,
But ye’ll easy find oot a’ their beds aroond by Corachree.