As the King lay musing

As the King lay musing upon his bed

As the King lay musing upon his bed
He bethought himself upon a time
Of tribute Due by the King of France
That had not been paid for a long, long time.
Chorus: Fal the Dal, lal a – fal the Dal, lal ee.

So call me my little Page
Go call him here right speedily
For he  shall go to the King of France
And bring the treasure that is due to me
Chorus

Away, away ran the little page
Away, away and away went he
And when he came to the King of France
He fell down low on bended knee
Chorus

My master greets you right courteously
Ten tons of Gold which is due he
And if you don’t send him the treasure home
It’s on French ground you will soon him see
Chorus

Your master’s young and of tender years
not fit to come up to my degree
and I will send him three tennis balls
That with them he may learn to play
Chorus

Away, away came the little Page
Away, away and away came he
And when he came to our Gracious King
He fell down low on bended knee
Chorus

What news, what news my little Page
What news, what news have you got for me?
No news, no news my sovereign King
Bust just what my two eyes did see
Chorus

He says you’re young and of tender years
Not fit to come up to his Degree
And he will send you three tennis balls
That with them you may learn to play
Chorus
Go call to me my merry men all
All by thirties and by three
And I will send him such tennis balls
As on French ground he did see
Chorus

Go recruit me a Cheshire and Lancashire
And Derby hill that was more free
Not a married man nor a widow’s son
And they were a Jovial company
Chorus

And when they came unto French ground
With Drums and trumpets so merrily
Out then spoke the King of France
Low yonder come Proud Henry
Chorus

But when they came to the Palace gates
Which they soon stormed and the French did flee
Out then spoke the King of France
God have mercy on my Poor men and me
Chorus

And I will send you your treasure home
Ten tons of gold which is due to thee
And the fairest flower that blooms in France
My liege at your command shall be
Chorus.


(From Alexander Kirk, Inspector of the Poor, Dalry.  Learned from David Rae, Barlay, Balmaclellan. Collected 15/10/1886)