The Seas Between Us

by Sophie Ramsay

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Oynque
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Oynque Ethereal Scottish music presented in a contemplative manner. Very nice. Favorite track: Bidh Clann Ulaidh.
Anita Botman
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Anita Botman Great collection of songs, performed in a highly original way. She has the kind of voice that draws you in within seconds.
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1.
Ae Fond Kiss 04:26
Ae fond kiss and then we sever Ae fareweel and then forever Deep in heartwrung tears I'll pledge thee Warring sighs and groans, I'll wage thee. Who should say that fortune grieves him While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me Dark despair around benights me. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy Naething could resist my Nancy But tae see her was to love her Love but her, and love forever. Had we never loved sae kindly Had we never loved sae blindly Never met and never parted We would ne'er be broken hearted. Fare thee weel thou first and fairest Fare the weel thou best and dearest Thine be ilka joy and treasure Peace, enjoyment, love and pleasure. Ae fond kiss and then we sever Ae fareweel, alas forever Deep in heartwrung tears I'll pledge thee Warring sighs and groans, I'll wage thee.
2.
As I cam in by Fiddichside On a May morning I spied Willie MacIntosh An hour before the dawning Turn again, turn again Turn again I bid ye If you burn Auchindoun Huntly he will heid ye. Heid me, hang me That shall never fear me I'll burn Auchindoun Though the life leaves me. As I cam in by Auchindoun On a May morning Auchindoun was in a bleeze An hour before the dawning Crawing, crawing, For a' your crouse crawin' Ye burnt your crops and ye tint your wings An hour before the dawning.
3.
Bothan Airigh Am Braighe Raichneach Gur e m’ anam is m’eudail chaidh an-dè do Ghleann Garadh: fear na gruaig’ mar an t-òr is nam pòg air bhlas meala. O hi ò o hu ò, o hi ò o hu ò, Hi rì ri ò hu èileadh O hì ri ri ri ò gheallaibh ò ‘S tu as fheàrr dhan tig deise de na sheasadh air talamh; ‘s tu as fheàrr dhan tig culaidh de na chunna mi dh’ fhearaibh. ‘S tu as fheàrr dhan tig osan is bròg shocrach nam barrall: còta Lunnainneach dubh-ghorm, ‘s bidh na crùintean ga cheannach. An uair a ruigeadh tu ‘n fhèill is e mo ghèar-sa a thig dhachaigh; mo chriosan is mo chìre is mo stìomag chaol cheangail. Thig mo chrios à Dùn Eideann is mo bhrèid à Dùn Chailleann, gheibh sinn crodh às a’ Mhaorainn agus caoraich à Gallaibh. ‘S ann a bhios sinn ‘gan àrach air àirigh am Bràigh Raithneach. ann am bòthan an t-sùgraidh is gur e bu dùnadh dha barrach. Bidh a’ chuthag ‘s a smùdan a’ gabhail ciùil duinn air chrannaibh; bidh an damh donn ‘s a bhùireadh gar dùsgadh sa mhadainn. The Shieling Hut On Rannoch Braes It was my soul and my darling who went to Glen Garry yesterday the man of the golden locks and the kisses that taste of honey. O hi ò o hu ò, o hi ò o hu ò, Hi rì ri ò hu èileadh O hì ri ri ri ò gheallaibh ò Clothes look the best on you out of any who stood on earth garments suit you the best out of all the men I’ve seen. You’re the best suited to stockings and comfortable shoes with laces a London coat of dark blue that costs many crowns to buy. When you reach the fair it’s my own gear that will come home my girdle and my comb and my slim binding head-band. My belt will come from Edinburgh and my bridal head-dress from Dunkeld we’ll get cattle from the Mearns and sheep from Galloway. We will be raising them here on the shieling in Rannoch Brae in the bothy hut of courtship that is closed over with branches. The cuckoo and its song will be giving us music from the trees the brown stag and its roaring will wake us in the morning. Translation: Lucy Macrae
4.
By yon castle wa' at the close of the day I heard a man sing though his head it was gray And as he was singing the tears doon came There'll never be peace till Jamie cams hame. The church is in ruins, the state is in jars Delusion, oppression and murderous wars We dare na weel say’t but we ken wha's tae blame There'll never be peace till Jamie cams hame. My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword And noo I greet round their green beds in the yard It brack the sweet heart o' my faithful old dame There'll never be peace till Jamie cams hame. Noo life is a ruin, that bows me doon, Sin' I tint my bairns, and he tint his croon But till my last moments, my words are the same There'll never be peace till Jamie cams hame.
5.
Bràighe Loch Iall O thèid is gun tèid O thèid mi thairis Gu innis nam bò Far an ceòlmhòr ainnir Sèist: Ill ò bha hò S’na hao ri ri rì o hi Hoireann o gù o hill ò bha hò Gu innis nam bò Far an ceòlmhòr ainnir Gu Bràighe Loch Iall Far am bi fiadh s’an langan Gu Bràighe Loch Iall Far am bi fiadh s’an langan Is earbag nan stùc Tha lùghmhor eangar Is earbag nan stùc Tha lùghmhor eangar A bhean an fhuilt rèidh Guidheam fhèin dhut mo bheannachd A bhean an fhuilt rèidh Guidheam fhèin dhut mo bheannachd Mo beannachd ad dhèidh Ged is fheudar bhith dealaicht’ O thèid is gun tèid O thèid mi dhachaidh Gu Bràighe Loch Iall Far am bith fiadh s’an langan The Braes of Locheil O I’ll go, I’ll go O I will go over To the cow pasture Where the tuneful maiden is Chorus: Ill ò bha hò S’na hao ri ri rì o hi Hoireann o gù o hill ò bha hò To the cow pasture Where the musical maiden is To the Braes of Locheil Where the red deer bellow To the Braes of Locheil Where the red deer bellow And the roe deer of the hillocks Who are swift and agile And the roe deer of the hillocks Who are swift and agile Woman of the smooth hair I give you my blessing Woman of the smooth hair I give you my blessing My blessing upon you Although we had to part O I’ll go, I’ll go O I will go home To the Braes of Locheil Where the red deer bellow Translation: Lucy Macrae
6.
The Lea Rig 03:25
When o'er the hill the eastern star Tells buchtin' time is near my jo And owsen frae the furrowed fields Return sae dowf and wearie o Doon by the burn, the scented birk Wi dew are hanging clear my jo I'd meet ye on the lea rig My ain, kind dearie o. At midnight hour, on mirkest glen I'd rove and ne'er be eerie o If through that glen I gaed tae thee My ain, kind dearie o Although the nights were ne'er sae wild And I were ne'er sae wearie o I'd meet thee on the lea rig My ain, kind dearie o. The hunter lo'es the morning sun Tae rouse the mountain deer my jo At noon the fisher seeks the glen Alang the burn tae steer my jo Gie me the hour o' gloamin' grey It makes my heart sae cheerie o Tae meet thee on the lea rig My ain kind dearie o.
7.
8.
8. The Dowie Dens o Yarrow There was a lady in the north, I ne’er could find her marrow, She was courted by nine gentlemen, And a plooboy lad fae Yarrow. These nine sat drinking at the wine, Sat drinking wine in Yarrow; And they’ve made a vow amang them aa, Tae fecht for her on Yarrow. She’s washed his face an' kaimed his hair, As aft she’s daen afore O; An she’s made him like a knight sae braw, Tae fecht for her on Yarrow. Then he’s gaed up thon high, high hills, In tae the houms o Yarrow; And it’s there he spied nine airmed men, Come tae fecht wi him on Yarrow. It’s three he slew and three they flew, And three he’s wounded sairly; But her brother John cam in ahin, And he’s murdered him maist foully. "Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause young man And bring yer sister sorrow For her ain true love lies pale and wan On the Dowie Dens o' Yarrow “Oh mither dear, I’ve dreamt a dream, A dream o dule an sorrow; I dreamt I was pu’in heather bells, On the dowie dens o Yarrow.” “Oh dochter dear, I’ve read your dream, I doot it will bring sorrow; For your ain true love he lies pale and wan, On the dowie dens o Yarrow.” Well she’s gaed up thon high, high hills, Intae the houms o Yarrow; And it’s there she spied her ain true love, Lying pale an wan on Yarrow. Her hair it was three-quarters lang, The colour it was yellow; An she’s tied it roon his middle sma, An she’s borne him doun fae Yarrow. “Oh, daughter dear, dry up your tear And dwell no more in sorrow, For I'll wed you to far higher degree Than the ploughman boy fae Yarrow.” “Oh faither dear, ye’ve seiven sons, Ye maun wad them aa the morrow; But the fairest flooer amang them aa, Was the plooboy lad fae Yarrow.”
9.
My love's in Germanie Send him hame, send him hame My love's in Germanie Send him hame. My love's in Germanie Fighting brave for royalty He may ne'er his Jeannie see Send him hame, send him hame He may ne'er his Jeannie see Send him hame. He's brave as brave can be Send him hame, send him hame He's brave as brave can be Send him hame. He's brave as brave can be He wad rather fa' than flee In the cause o' loyalty Send him hame, send him hame In the cause of loyalty Send him hame. His faes are ten tae three Send him hame, send him hame His faes are ten tae three Send him hame. His faes are ten tae three He maun either fa' or flee In the cause o' loyalty Send him hame, send him hame In the cause o' loyalty Send him hame. Your love ne'er learned tae flee Bonnie dame, winsome dame Your love ne'er learned tae flee, winsome dame. Your love ne'er learned tae flee But he fell in Germanie Fighting brave for royalty, Bonnie dame, mournfu' dame Fighting brave for royalty Mournfu' dame. He'll ne'er come o'er the sea Willie's slain, Willie's slain He'll ne'er come o'er the sea Willie's gane. He'll ne'er come o'er the sea To his love and ain countrie This world's nae more for me Willie's slain, Willie's slain This world's nae more for me Willie's gane.
10.
Now westlin' winds, and slaughtering guns Bring autumn's pleasant weather The moorcock springs on whirring wings About the blooming heather Now waving grain wide o'er the plain Delights the wearie farmer And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night To muse upon my charmer. The partridge loves the fruitful fells, The plover loves the mountains; The woodcock haunts the lonely dells, The soaring hern the fountain: Thro' lofty groves the cushat roves, The path of man to shun it; In the hazel bush o'erhangs the thrush, The spreading thorn the linnet. Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find, The savage and the tender; Some social join, and leagues combine, Some solitary wander: Avaunt, away! the cruel sway, Tyrannic man's dominion; The sportsman's joy, the murd'ring cry, The flutt'ring, gory pinion! But, Peggy dear, the ev'ning's clear, Thick fly the skimming swallows, The sky is blue, the fields in view, All fading-green and yellow: Come let us stray our gladsome way, And view the charms of Nature; The rustling corn, the fruited thorn, And ev'ry happy creature. We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk, While the silent moon shine clearly; I'll grasp thy waist, and, fondly prest, Swear how I love thee dearly: Not vernal show'rs to budding flow'rs, Not autumn to the farmer, So dear can be as thou to me, My fair, my lovely charmer!
11.
Fareweel, ye dungeons dark and strang Fareweel, fareweel, said he MacPherson's time will no' be lang Alow the gallows tree Chorus: Sae rantingly, sae wantonly Sae dauntingly gaed he He played a tune and he danced aroon' Alow the gallows tree It was by a woman's treacherous hand That I was condemned tae dee Aboon a ledge at a windae she stood And a blanket she threw o'er me Untie these bands frae aff o' my hands And gie tae me my sword There's no a man in a' Scotland But I'd brave him at his word It's some come here tae see me hang And some tae buy my fiddle But afore that I would part wi' her I'd brak' her through the middle He took his fiddle into baith of his hands And he brak' it o'er a stone Said, Nae ither hands shall play on thee When I am deid and gane Ach, little did my mother think When first she cradled me That I would turn a roving boy And die on the gallows tree The reprieve it was coming o'er the Brig o' Banff Tae set MacPherson free But they put the clock tae a quarter afore And they hanged him tae the tree
12.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne! Chorus: For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne. We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye'll be your pint stowp! And surely I'll be mine! And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught, For auld lang syne. We twa hae run about the braes, And pou'd the gowans fine; But we've wander'd mony a weary path Sin' auld lang syne. We twa hae paidl'd in the burn, Frae morning sun till dine; But the seas between us braid hae roar'd For auld lang syne. And here's a hand, my trusty fiere! And gie's a hand o' thine! And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught, For auld lang syne.

about

These are all old Scots and Gaelic songs. Tracks 1, 4, 6, 10, 11 and 12 were written by Burns (though many of them have much older roots). The Dowie Dens of Yarrow and The Burning of Auchindoun are both ballads, found in various collections including Child. The Dowie Dens is a Border Ballad. My Love's in Germanie is by Hector MacNeil. The Gaelic song authors are all unknown to my knowledge. Bothan Airigh am Braighe Raithneach is around 400 years old, passed down exclusively orally for most of that time.

credits

released September 21, 2016

Recorded and produced by Matheu Watson
Mixed by Leo Abrahams
Mastered by Iain Hutchison

Sophie Ramsay: voice, guitar, piano
Matheu Watson: guitars, bass guitar, fiddle, mandolin, harmonium, prepared instruments and electronics
Fraser Fifield: low whistle, lowland pipes, kaval
Jim Rattigan: French horn
Ben Cashell: cello
Findlay Napier: vocals

Sleeve design and photography: Dave Maric
Translations from Gaelic: Lucy Macrae

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Sophie Ramsay UK

Sophie Ramsay sings old and new folk: songs from her native Scotland alongside originals with poetic lyrics. ‘The Glassy Mountain' (2013): ‘undeniably beautiful’ (fRoots), 'Joanna Newsom meets Belle and Sebastian' (R2). ‘The Seas Between Us’ (2016): 'Atmospheric, elegant and beguiling.' (Songlines). ‘Deeply moving’ (fRoots). Sophie tours regularly with cellist singer Sarah Smout. ... more

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