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Poor Rosa the Pride of the Vale

[ Roud 17776 ; VWML GG/1/13/787 ; Bodleian Roud 17776 ; trad.]

George Gardiner collected The Rose of the Vale in August 1907 from Sarah Goodyear (74) at Axford by Basingstoke, Hampshire [VWML GG/1/13/787] .

George Sansome recorded Rosa in 2022 for a digital single, accompanied by Owen Spafford on violin. He noted:

Rosa, recorded live at Evoke Studios in Leeds by Will Killen.

A traditional song (Roud 17776) from the book Southern Songster: English Folk Songs from the Hammond and Gardiner Manuscripts, fleshed out with words from a broadside ballad from the Bodleian Library.

Lyrics

Mrs. Goodyear sings The Rose of the Vale

Come all you good people that dwells far and near,
Unto my misfortune I pray lend an ear,
I was courted by young Edwin, of him I’ll tell my tale;
In this fate was poor Rose called the pride of the vale.

Now Edwin was wealthy, my parents were poor,
My father forbid him to enter his door,
But for many a long evening over hill, plain and dale,
Young Edwin he rambled with the rose of the vale.

Now we lived in splendour for nine months or more,
But at last cruel Edwin turned me out of doors;
Now I was left to wander, no friend to tell my tale,
In this fate was poor Rose once the pride of the vale.

Now I returned home with my baby quite young,
I found not my mother for she was dead and gone;
My father he shunned me with looks deadly pale,
And he cursed his daughter once the pride of the vale.

Then she kissed her baby’s lips and laid it by her side;
She breathed a prayer to Heaven and lay down and died,
Saying, “All you fair damsels take a warning by this tale,
And remember the fate of poor Rose of the vale.”

George Sansome sings Rosa

Come all you bold people that dwell far and near,
Unto my misfortune I pray lend an ear,
I was courted by young Edward, of him I’ll tell my tale,
Of this fate of poor Rosa, the pride of the vale.

Edward was wealthy, my parents were poor,
My father forbid him to enter our door,
But for many the long evening o’er hill, plain and dale,
Young Edwin he rambled with the pride of the vale.

And we lived in splendour for nine months or more,
Until cruel Edward turned me from the door;
And I was left to wander, no friend to tell my tale,
Of this fate of poor Rosa, the pride of the vale.

So I returned home with my baby quite young,
Found not my mother, she was dead and gone;
My father how he shunned me with looks deadly pale,
He cursed his poor daughter once the pride of the vale.

I’ll wander over mountains where the cold winds do blow,
For many the mile knowing not where to go;
I’ll lay myself down in the cold rain and hail,
There’s no-one to comfort the pride of the vale.

I’ll lay myself down with my child by my side,
Bid farewell to the vale where I once did abide;
Saying, “All you good people take warning by this tale,
Remember the fate of the pride of the vale.”