Source: Words by John Manifold; tune by Tom Campbell. On Harry Tuft, ""Across the Blue Mountains, Folk Legacy Records FSA-63, Sharon, CT 1976.
Notes: I've now revised my notes to the background of this song, which say that Tom Campbell (best known song 'Darcy Farrow') read the Manifold poem in a high school textbook called 'Sound & Sense - an introduction to poetry'.
Apparently he changed the original text, so that the words printed in the Digital Tradition (and recorded by several artists) are different to the original poem, which was not intended to be set in Australia. That's why I changed it to 'wolves' who howl (not 'yowl'), as I felt more comfortable with that. The notes below explain; and are followed by what I think is the original poem.
Nowhere have I seen that Campbell actually composed the tune (just 'set' the text to music), a melody which some have said sounds a bit like 'Love Henry', and Tim Edwards thinks is like parts of 'Tam Lin'.
And yes, I agree that our G4T sessions are completely wonderful! Such a supportive environment in which to present and discuss our repertoires, knowing that everyone there is really interested to hear them - and no live audiences to inhibit our choices. We're still learning know to make the best of Zoom, of course, but my Glad4Tradders are an inspiration.
Cheerio for now, with love from Sue.
Bride
From: Joe_F
Date: 26 Sep 12 - 10:16 AM
Campbell's adaptation is considerable & (IMO) often for the better. However, it creates two problems that (I hear) have puzzled Australians who have heard the song but not read the poem. One is the substitution of "dingoes" for "wild dogs", which places the narrative in Australia. The other is the griesly news in the last stanza that the man is a *trapper*, thus providing a vengeful motive for the animal. I gather that there are in fact no animals in Australia whose pelt is valuable enough to provide a living for trappers. It seems clear that Manifold did *not* intend the story to be set in his native Australia.
The Griesly Wife:
"Lie Still, my newly
married wife,
Lie easy as you can.
You're young and ill
accustomed yet
To sleepying with a
man."
The snow lay thick,
the moon was full
And shone across the
floor.
And the young wife
went with ne'er a
word
Barefooted to the door.
He up and followed
sure and fast,
The moon shone clear
and white.
But before his coat
was on his back
His wife was out of
sight.
He trod the trail
where'er it turned
By many a mound and
scree,
And still the barefoot
track led on,
And an angry man was
he.
He followed fast, he
followed slow,
And still he called
her name,
But only the wild
dogs out in the hills
Yowled back at him
again.
His hair stood up
along his neck,
His angry mind was
gone,
For the track of the
two bare feet gave out
And a four-foot track
went on.
Her nightgown lay
upon the snow
As it might upon the
sheet,
But the track that
led from where it lay
Was ne'er of human
feet.
His heart turned over
in his chest,
He looked from side
to side,
And he thought more
of his blazing fire,
Than he did of his
griesly bride.
And first he started
walking back
And then began to
run,
And his quarry
wheeled at the end of
her track
And hunted him in
turn.
Oh, long the fire may
burn for him
And open stand the
door,
And long may the bed
wait empty:
For he'll never see it
more.
