The Bonny Bunch of Roses
58.4 هزار بار بازدید -
16 سال پیش
-
Clip from 1965. Sung by
Clip from 1965. Sung by a young Colm Walsh from County Clare. Colm sadly passed away on 22nd August 2022 R.I.P.
The earliest known version of the tune is in William Christie's "Tradition Ballad Airs" (1881), but there is another tune, of Irish origin. It is a conversation between Napoleon's son (Napoleon II, 1811-1832, named King of Rome by his father upon birth)and his mother (Marie Louise, Napoleon's second wife, whom he married after divorcing Josephine). The sentiment is pro-Napoleon, which would indicate an Irish origin.
The Irish, who were themselves under the British thumb through the 18th & 19th century, were actually big fans of Napoleon Bonaparte. His bravery captivated the national imagination, as did his defiance even in defeat. The Irish also adored the tragic story of the romance between the doomed emperor and his second wife, Marie Louise. So it's no surprise they chose her words to frame the story of Bonaparte's fall.
Lyrics
In the lyrics below, from 1881, the "Bonnie Bunch o' Roses" is, according to some[who?], Europe; others[who?] say it's a figure of speech for the British Empire, and others[who?] say it is Britain. And St. Helena is, of course, the island to which Bonaparte was exiled (the second time, that is - his first exile was on Elba).
Near by the swelling ocean,
One morning in the month of June,
While feather'd warbling songsters
Their charming notes did sweetly tune,
I overheard a lady
Lamenting in sad grief and woe,
And talking with young Bonaparte
Concerning the bonny Bunch of Roses, O.
Thus spake the young Napoleon,
And grasp'd his mother by the hand:-
"Oh, mother dear have patience,
Till I am able to command;
I'll raise a numerous army,
And through tremendous dangers go,
And in spite of all the universe,
I'll gain the bonny Bunch of Roses, O."
Oh, son, speak not so venturesome;
For England is the heart of oak;
Of England, Scotland, and Ireland,
The unity can ne'er be broke.
And think you on your father,
In the Island where he now lies low,
He is not yet interred in France;
So beware of the bonny Bunch of Roses, O.
Your father raised great armies,
And likewise kings did join the throng;
He was so well provided.
Enough to sweep the world along.
But when he went to Moscow,
He was o'erpower'd by drifting snow;
And though Moscow was blazing
He lost the bonny Bunch of Roses, O.
"Oh, mother, adieu for ever,
I am now on my dying bed,
If I had liv'd I'd have been brave
But now I droop my youthful head.
And when our bones do moulder,
And weeping-willows o'er us grow,
Its deeds to bold Napoleon
Will stain the bonny Bunch of Roses, O."
The earliest known version of the tune is in William Christie's "Tradition Ballad Airs" (1881), but there is another tune, of Irish origin. It is a conversation between Napoleon's son (Napoleon II, 1811-1832, named King of Rome by his father upon birth)and his mother (Marie Louise, Napoleon's second wife, whom he married after divorcing Josephine). The sentiment is pro-Napoleon, which would indicate an Irish origin.
The Irish, who were themselves under the British thumb through the 18th & 19th century, were actually big fans of Napoleon Bonaparte. His bravery captivated the national imagination, as did his defiance even in defeat. The Irish also adored the tragic story of the romance between the doomed emperor and his second wife, Marie Louise. So it's no surprise they chose her words to frame the story of Bonaparte's fall.
Lyrics
In the lyrics below, from 1881, the "Bonnie Bunch o' Roses" is, according to some[who?], Europe; others[who?] say it's a figure of speech for the British Empire, and others[who?] say it is Britain. And St. Helena is, of course, the island to which Bonaparte was exiled (the second time, that is - his first exile was on Elba).
Near by the swelling ocean,
One morning in the month of June,
While feather'd warbling songsters
Their charming notes did sweetly tune,
I overheard a lady
Lamenting in sad grief and woe,
And talking with young Bonaparte
Concerning the bonny Bunch of Roses, O.
Thus spake the young Napoleon,
And grasp'd his mother by the hand:-
"Oh, mother dear have patience,
Till I am able to command;
I'll raise a numerous army,
And through tremendous dangers go,
And in spite of all the universe,
I'll gain the bonny Bunch of Roses, O."
Oh, son, speak not so venturesome;
For England is the heart of oak;
Of England, Scotland, and Ireland,
The unity can ne'er be broke.
And think you on your father,
In the Island where he now lies low,
He is not yet interred in France;
So beware of the bonny Bunch of Roses, O.
Your father raised great armies,
And likewise kings did join the throng;
He was so well provided.
Enough to sweep the world along.
But when he went to Moscow,
He was o'erpower'd by drifting snow;
And though Moscow was blazing
He lost the bonny Bunch of Roses, O.
"Oh, mother, adieu for ever,
I am now on my dying bed,
If I had liv'd I'd have been brave
But now I droop my youthful head.
And when our bones do moulder,
And weeping-willows o'er us grow,
Its deeds to bold Napoleon
Will stain the bonny Bunch of Roses, O."
16 سال پیش
در تاریخ 1387/07/12 منتشر شده
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