Breedloves's Folk Songs

ROSIN THE BOW

  • ROSIN THE BOW
    The tune is used for a single step in the North-West England morris dance tradition.
    Bayard (1981) notes the air was known to most fiddlers, fifers, and singers in
    Pennsylvania, as in many parts of the country.
    I’ve traveled all over this world
    And now to another I go
    And I know that good quarters are waiting
    To welcome old Rosin the Bow
    To welcome old Rosin the Bow
    To welcome old Rosin the Bow
    And I know that good quarters are waiting
    To welcome old Rosin the Bow.
    When I’m dead and laid out on the counter
    A voice you will hear from below
    Saying “Send down a hogshead of whiskey
    To drink with old Rosin the Bow”
    To drink with old Rosin the Bow”
    To drink with old Rosin the Bow”
    Saying “Send down a hogshead of whiskey
    To drink with old Rosin the Bow”.
    Then get a half dozen stout fellows
    And stack them all up in a row
    Let them drink out of half gallon bottles
    To the memory of Rosin the Bow
    To the memory of Rosin the Bow
    To the memory of Rosin the Bow
    Let them drink out of half gallon bottles
    To the memory of Rosin the Bow.
    Then get this half dozen stout fellows
    And let them all stagger and go
    And dig a great hole in the meadow
    And in it put Rosin the Bow
    And in it put Rosin the Bow
    And in it put Rosin the Bow
    And dig a great hole in the meadow
    And in it put Rosin the Bow.
    Then get ye a couple of bottles
    Put one at me head and me toe
    With a diamond ring scratch upon them
    The name of old Rosin the Bow
    The name of old Rosin the Bow
    The name of old Rosin the Bow
  • With a diamond ring scratch upon them
    The name of old Rosin the Bow.
    I’ve only this one consolation
    As out of this world I go
    I know that the next generation
    Will resemble old Rosin the Bow
    Will resemble old Rosin the Bow
    Will resemble old Rosin the Bow
    I know that the next generation
    Will resemble old Rosin the Bow.
    I fear that old tyrant approaching
    That cruel remorseless old foe
    And I lift up me glass in his honor
    Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow
    Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow
    Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow
    And I lift up me glass in his honor
    Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow

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