I don’t mean to tell you her name

AKA Village fair
My lovely village fair
First Published 1826
Writer/composer Thomas Hudson / Robert Guylott Roud RN1271

Music Hall Performers Thomas Hudson
Folk performances Collected from the singing of:
Sawyer, David; England, Wiltshire, 1914-16		 

From Thomas Hudson's 7th Collection of Comic Songs (1826)  
[Original footnote: The music of this song by Robert Guylott, Esq is published by Goulding and D'Almaine,  Soho Square]

With my village fair
No lass can compare,
For innocence and native grace;
She boasts not of wealth,
But the pure bloom of health
Shines forth in her beautiful face.
Such a form ne'er was seen,
As she trips o'er the green,
And her heart's free from guile and from shame;

She lives near the mill,
At the top of the hill,
But I don't mean to tell you her name.
No, no! I don't mean to tell you her name.

Her luxuriant hair, 
So bewitching be fair, 
As wanton it sports in the wind; 
Her mild beaming eye, 
Like the blue of the sky, 
Is an emblem, so pure, of her mind; 
The sound of her voice 
Makes my fond heart rejoice; 
My feelings, what mortal can blame?

There's the lord, and the squire,
Although so much higher,
Endeavour her favour to gain,
But try all they may,
They'll only get  "Nay,"
And find all their labour in vain.
Twas only last night; 
As we walked by moonlight, 
She owned she for me felt loves flame:



Later printings include a final verse, this one is taken from a broadside in the Frank Kidson collection held at VWML:

How happy I'll be when united I see,
Myself with this beautiful fair; 
When to me she'll impart both her hand and her heart 
No bliss with my joys can compare, 
When in wedlock we join our hearts will combine, 
And Cupid our love will inflame, 

While we sport round the hill 
And she lives near the mill, 
And that day I will tell you her name..

A song originally written and performed by Thomas Hudson (1791- 1844) a song-writer and performer active in the singing taverns and supper rooms that influenced the early Music Hall in London. He was in many ways a transitional figure – his songs reflected both elements of 18th century song and the future style of comic song that dominated the Halls.

Hudson published his songs in 13 collections between 1818 and 1832. He seems to have been particularly keen on establishing ownership of the words and music of his songs. A large number of the songs were set to pre-existing well-known tunes and he would indicate this in the notes that go with the song. A smaller number had music specially written for them, and these tended to include a note as to where the music could be obtained . This song does have associated sheet music, composed by Rober Guylott (which I have as yet been unable to access), its held in several libraries.

Like many of Hudson’s songs this one survives in multiple 19th century English broadsheets and songbooks. In later versions the song is usually called Village Fair and usually includes the additional last verse. It’s not clear whether Hudson or someone else wrote it.

Several of his songs were remembered by the traditional singers whose songs were compiled by folk song collectors in the late 19th and early 20th century. This song was collected by Alfred Williams from the singing of David Sawyer in around 1915 and published in the Folk Songs of the Upper Thames in 1923. The version Sawyer sang had changed in structure slightly, and gained some new verses:

As printed in  Folk Songs of the Upper Thames 
It’s with my village fair
No lassie can compare,
For innocence and beauty’s fame;
And she lives near the mill,
At the top of the hill,
But I don’t mean to tell you her name.

Oh, no, no, no!
I don’t mean to tell you her name.

There’s the lord, duke and squire,
Although they do rank higher,
Endeavour her favour to gain,
Let them try how they may,
They still will have, “Nay,”
And find their labours in vain.

It was only last night,
As we walked by moonlight,
She owned for me her heart was aflame,
Yet she lives near the mill,
At the top of the hill,
But I don’t mean to tell you her name.

How happy I should be,
If myself I could see,
When I’m bound to this beautiful fair;
When to joy we impart,
Both in hand and in heart,
Who then with our joys can compare?

When to joys we impart,
Both in hand and in heart,
We’ll copy it in each love’s name;
Then we’ll sport round the hill,
Where she lives near the mill,
And on that day I’ll tell you her name.

O yes, yes, yes!
On that day I’ll tell you her name.

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