Capo 1nd Fret

It's ^Cfifty long springtimes since ^Dmshe was a ^Gbride, But ^Cstill you may ^Dmsee her at ^Feach Whitsun^Gtide In a ^Cdress of white ^Glinen with ^Cribbons of ^Ggreen, As ^Cgreen as her ^Dmmemories of ^Glov - ^Cing.

The feet that were nimble tread carefully now, As gentle a measure as age will allow, Through groves of white blossoms, by fields of young corn, Where once she was pledged to her true-love. The fields they stand empty, the hedges grow free -- No young men to turn them or pastures go seed They are gone where the forest of oak trees before Have gone, to be wasted in battle. Down from the green farmlands and from their loved ones Marched husbands and brothers and fathers and sons. There's a fine roll of honor where the Maypole once stood, And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun. There's a straight row of houses in these latter days All covering the downs where the sheep used to graze. There's a field of red poppies (a gift from the Queen) But the ladies remember at Whitsun, And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun. http://www.gordonbok.com/bokmuirtrickett.html

Misc Traditional - Bok muir and trickett - dancing at whitsun