Where The Violets Are Blue-oo and The Roses Are Red
AKA | Where The Violets Are Blue And The Roses Are Red |
First Published | 1931 |
Writer/composer | William Hargreaves | Roud | RN10747 |
Music Hall Performers | |
Folk performances | Collected from the singing of: Wirdnam, Harold ; England : 1998 Black, Freda ; England : Hampshire : 2012 Woods, Gordon England : Suffolk : no date Cottenham, Fred ; England : Kent : no date |
My sweetheart said to me one night after tea,
You've been a long time in the courting of me,
I don't wish to beg an engagement ring, dear,
But twenty-two carat would prove you're sincere.
Where the violets are blue and the roses are red,
These twenty-two carrots went out of my head,
So I bought her six lovely big turnips instead,
Where the violets are blue and the roses are red.
Out ploughing the fields like the yeomen of old,
It started to rain, I caught a terrible cold,
I went to my bedroom, and when I undressed,
A pretty young nurse started rubbing my chest.
Where the violets are blue and the roses are red,
A lovely big poultice of linseed and bread,
When I woke up next morning that poultice had spread,
Where the violets are blue and the roses are red.
Now, two lovely daughters of old Farmer Green,
Two of the nicest girls I'd ever seen,
So handsome and beautiful and just in their prime,
They were hanging their washing all out on the line.
Where the violets are blue and the roses are red,
Their sweet little nick-nacks so carefully spread,
When I looked at that clothes line, I to myself said,
'Oh, Violet's are blue and Rose's are red!'
Down at my lodging when supper's brought in,
My portion of cheese is cut painfully thin,
I said 'my sight's failing, I can't see my cheese.'
But next night at supper, I felt more at ease.
Where the violets are blue and the roses are red,
She said 'How's your eyesight, now?' 'Better', I said,
'For now I can see my cheese straight through my bread'
Where the violets are blue and the roses are red.
The woman I married had been married before,
She praised her first husband till it made me sore,
Each night after supper, she'd rant and she'd rave,
She made me dress up to visit his grave.
Where the violets are blue and the roses are red,
'Not dead, but just sleeping' was carved at his head,
So I said: 'Wake him up and take him home instead.'
Where the violets are blue and the roses are red.
Lyrics from Mustrad: Fred Cottenham: The 'Crockery Ware' Man
A comic song from the early 1930s, written by William Hargreaves and recorded in 1933 by Charlie Higgins. It has been collected from several traditional singers in England.
George Frampton sings it
Sources:
- Entries in the Roud Indexes at the Vaughn Williams Memorial Library: https://archives.vwml.org/search/all:single[folksong-broadside-books]/0_50/all/score_desc/extended-roudNo_tr%3A10747
- Mudcat Thread
- Kilgarrif Sing Us
- Lyrics: Mustrad Fred Cottenham: The ‘Crockery Ware’ Man
- Sheet Music: not found