The Mountains of Pomeroy / Renaldine / The Mountains High / On the Mountains High / On the Mountain High / Rhinordine / Rinordine / Renardine / Ranadine / Rynerdine / Ryner Dyne / Rin-o-dine / Rinodine / Rinor / Ranordine / Randall Rine / Reynard / If By Chance You Look For Me / Reynardine (Roud No. 397 Appendix) - Sung by Rosie Stewart on "Adieu to Lovely Garrison" (1998) Spring Records SCD1041.
Note by Kevin W.:
Getting hold of this CD was quite an adventure. But it was worth it. Rosie is one of the best of that rare breed of singers who still keep the old style of unaccompanied singing alive.
This poem is based on the broadside ballad "The Mountains High / Rhinordine / Reynardine" (Roud No. 397). The poem was written by George Sigerson (1836-1925) of Strabane, Co. Tyrone, Northern Ireland.
Rosie's text displays many small deviations from the original, it has been sung in in a traditional fashion. She first heard the tune from Noel Hill.
Song transcription:
The dawn was springing fresh and fair,
The lark sang in the sky,
When the maid she bound her golden hair,
With a lovelight in her eye;
For, who beyond yon high greenwoods,
Was awaiting her with joy,
Oh, who but her gallant Reynardine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy.
An outlawed man in a land forlorn,
He scorned to turn and fly
But he kept the flag of freedom safe
Upon the mountains high
My love she said I am sore afraid
Of the foeman's hate for you
They have traced you by the lonely path
And all the valleys through
My kinsmen frowned when you were named
Your life they would destroy
'Beware,' they say, 'Of Reynardine
On the mountains of Pomeroy.'
"My love don't feed your fear
Or heed your kinsmen's hate for me"
No tyrant's law shall e'er befall
The arm that will be free.
For to leave your home and kin and come
Where the lark is in the sky
And with my gun I will guard you
On the mountains of Pomeroy"
The maiden rose and swiftly fled
From her cruel kin and home
And bright the flood and rosy red
The tumbling torrent's foam
But a mist came down and a storm came on
And did all around destroy
And a pale drowned bride met Reynardine
On the mountains of Pomeroy
An outlawed man in a land forlorn,
He scorned to turn and fly
But he kept the flag of freedom safe
Upon the mountains high