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The Parting Glass

by Casey Stratton

/
1.
Has sorrow thy young days shaded, As clouds o'er the morning fleet? Too fast have those young days faded That, even in sorrow, were sweet? Does Time with his cold wing wither Each feeling that once was dear? -- Then, child of misfortune, come hither, I'll weep with thee, tear for tear. Has love to that soul, so tender, Been like our Lagenian mine, Where sparkles of golden splendour All over the surface shine -- But, if in pursuit we go deeper, Allured by the gleam that shone, Ah! false as the dream of the sleeper, Like Love, the bright ore is gone. Has Hope, like the bird in the story, That flitted from tree to tree With the talisman's glittering glory -- Has Hope been that bird to thee? On branch after branch alighting, The gem did she still display, And, when nearest, and most inviting, Then waft the fair gem away? If thus the young hours have fleeted, When sorrow itself look'd bright; If thus the fair hope hath cheated, That led thee along so light; If thus the cold world now wither Each feeling that once was dear -- Come, child of misfortune, come hither, I'll weep with thee, tear for tear.
2.
Are you going to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme Remember me to one who lives there He once was a true love of mine Tell him to make me a cambric shirt Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme Without no seams nor needle work Then he'll be a true love of mine Have him wash it in yonder dry well Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme Where ne'er a drop of water e'er fell And then he'll be a true love of mine Tell him to find me an acre of land Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme Between salt water and the sea strands Then he'll be a true love of mine Tell him to reap it with a sickle of leather Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme And gather it all in a bunch of heather Then he'll be a true love of mine Are you going to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme Remember me to one who lives there He once was a true love of mine
3.
Au clair de la lune Mon ami Pierrot Prête-moi ta plume Pour écrire un mot Ma chandelle est morte Je n'ai plus de feu Ouvre-moi ta porte Pour l'amour de Dieu Au clair de la lune, Pierrot répondit : « Je n'ai pas de plume, Je suis dans mon lit. Va chez la voisine, Je crois qu'elle y est, Car dans sa cuisine On bat le briquet. » Au clair de la lune, L'aimable Lubin; Frappe chez la brune, Elle répond soudain : -Qui frappe de la sorte ? Il dit à son tour : -Ouvrez votre porte, Pour le Dieu d'Amour. Au clair de la lune, On n'y voit qu'un peu. On chercha la plume, On chercha le feu. En cherchant d'la sorte, Je n'sais c'qu'on trouva ; Mais je sais qu'la porte Sur eux se ferma.
4.
Oh the Summer time is coming And the trees are sweetly blooming And the wild mountain thyme All around the blooming heather Will ye go lassie go........ And we'll al lgo together To pull wild mountain thyme From around the blooming heather Will ye go lassie go . I will build my love a bower Near yon pure crystal fountain And on it I will pile All the flowers of the mountain Will ye go lassie go............ And we'll all go together To pull wild mountain thyme From around the blooming heather Will ye go lassie go . If my true love she were gone I will surely find no other Where wild mountain thyme All around the blooming heather Will ye go lassie go........... And we'll all go together To pull wild mountain thyme From around the blooming heather Will ye go lassie go
5.
I wish I was on yonder hill 'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill And every tear would turn a mill Is go dté tú mo mhuirnín slán Siúil, siúil, siúil a rúin Siúil go socair agus siúil go ciúin Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel I'll sell my only spinning wheel To buy my love a sword of steel Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red And round the world I'll beg my bread Until my parents shall wish me dead Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán I wish, I wish, I wish in vain I wish I had my heart again And vainly think I'd not complain Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán But now my love has gone to France to try his fortune to advance If he e'er comes back 'tis but a chance Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán
6.
Quand nous chanterons le temps des cerises Et gai rossignol et merle moqueur Seront tous en fête Les belles auront la folie en tête Et les amoureux du soleil au cœur Quand nous chanterons le temps des cerises Sifflera bien mieux le merle moqueur Mais il est bien court le temps des cerises Où l'on s'en va deux cueillir en rêvant Des pendants d'oreille... Cerises d'amour aux robes pareilles Tombant sous la feuille en gouttes de sang... Mais il est bien court le temps des cerises Pendants de corail qu'on cueille en rêvant ! Quand vous en serez au temps des cerises Si vous avez peur des chagrins d'amour Évitez les belles ! Moi qui ne crains pas les peines cruelles Je ne vivrai pas sans souffrir un jour... Quand vous en serez au temps des cerises Vous aurez aussi des chagrins d'amour ! J'aimerai toujours le temps des cerises C'est de ce temps-là que je garde au cœur Une plaie ouverte ! Et Dame Fortune, en m'étant offerte Ne pourra jamais fermer ma douleur... J'aimerai toujours le temps des cerises Et le souvenir que je garde au cœur !
7.
Raglan Road 04:31
On raglan road on an autumn day, I saw him first and knew That his light hair would weave a snare That i might one day rue. I saw the danger and yet i walked Along the enchanted way And i said let grief be a falling leaf At the dawning of the day. On grafton street in november, We tripped lightly along the ledge Of a deep ravine where can be seen The worst of passions pledged. The queen of hearts still baking tarts And i not making hay, For i loved too much; by such and such Is happiness thrown away. I gave him the gifts of the mind. I gave him the secret sign That's known to all the artists who have Known true gods of sound and time. With word and tint i did not stint. I gave he reams of poems to say With his own light hair and his own name there Like the clouds over fields of may. On a quiet street where old ghosts meet, I see him walking now away from me, So hurriedly. my reason must allow, For i have wooed, not as i should A creature made of clay. When the angel woos the clay, he'll lose His wings at the dawn of the day.
8.
Tha caolas eadar mi 's Iain Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho Tha caolas eadar mi 's Iain O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho Cha chaol a th' ann ach Cuan domhain Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho Cha chaol a th' ann ach Cuan domhain O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho   'S truagh nach tràghadh e bho latha Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho 'S truagh nach tràghadh e bho latha O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho 'S nach biodh ann ach loch neo abhainn Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho 'S nach biodh ann ach loch neo abhainn O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho Feuch a faighinn-sa dhol tarsainn Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho Feuch a faighinn-sa dhol tarsainn O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho Far a bheil mo leannan falaich Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho Far a bheil mo leannan falaich\ O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho Thèid sinn a-nisd far 'eil m' athair Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho Thèid sinn a-nisd far 'eil m' athair O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho 'S na bheil beò do luchd mo sheanar Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho 'S na bheil beò do luchd mo sheanar O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho Innsidh sinn dhaibh mar a thachair Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho Innsidh sinn dhaibh mar a thachair O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho Tha sinn a-nisd mar is math leinn Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho Tha sinn a-nisd mar is math leinn O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho Air ar pòsadh aig an altair Hao ri iu a, hao ri e ho Air ar pòsadh aig an altair O hao ri ri, hi ho ro na Hi hoireanno, hao ri e ho
9.
As time draws near my dearest dear when you and I must part How little you know of the grief and woe in my poor aching heart It's what I suffer for your sake believe me dear it's true I wish that you were staying here or I was going with you I wish my breast were made of glass wherein you might behold Upon my heart your name lies wrote in letters made of gold In letters made of gold my love, believe me when I say You are the one that I will adore until my dying day The blackest crow that ever flew would surely turn to white If ever I prove false to you bright day will turn to night Bright day will turn to night my love, the elements will mourn If ever I prove false to you the seas will rage and burn And when you're on some distant shore, Think of your absent friend, And when the wind blows high and clear, your voice to me, pray send. And when the wind blows high and clear, please send it on those skies, The best of friends must oft times part and now it's you and I.
10.
The Raven 11:23
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more." Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;- Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"- Merely this, and nothing more. Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door- Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered- Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before- On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before." Then the bird said, "Nevermore." Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore- Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never- nevermore'." But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting- "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted- nevermore!
11.
Of all the money e'er I had, I spent it in good company. And all the harm I've ever done, Alas! it was to none but me. And all I've done for want of wit To mem'ry now I can't recall So fill to me the parting glass Good night and joy be with you all. Oh, all the comrades e'er I had, They're sorry for my going away, And all the sweethearts e'er I had, They'd wish me one more day to stay, But since it falls unto my lot, That I should rise and you should not, I gently rise and softly call, Good night and joy be with you all. If I had money enough to spend, And leisure time to sit awhile, There is a fair maid in this town, That sorely has my heart beguiled. Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips, I own she has my heart in thrall, Then fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be with you all.

about

The Parting Glass is the follow-up to 2006's The Sun is Burning. Comprised of traditional American, Irish, Scottish, English and French folk songs, it also includes Casey's own setting of Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven. Casey sings in English, French, Irish Gaelic and Scots Gaelic on this album.

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released March 15, 2012

Photo by Terry Johnston

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Casey Stratton Grand Rapids

Formerly signed to Sony Classical, Casey Stratton has experienced the corporate side of music in full force. His 2004 album "Standing at the Edge" received high critical praise from the likes of Billboard, People and USA Today. His song "House of Jupiter" reached #1 on the Billboard Dance/Club Play Chart. Now independent, Casey has released 28 albums and much, much more. ... more

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