. The old cryes of London. us they sing, as I have heard,With Hey, jolly buckets to milking-ward. And so pleasantly and effectively ends this delightful picture ofa day in the country from early morn to dewy eve in the period ofShakespeare. One wonders who wrote the words ? And also what promptedDeering to set them in such novel form. His setting affords furtherproof that in Richard Deering, so disparaged by musical historians,and so long overlooked by English musicians, we have a composer ofextraordinary versatility, and one whose name stands out among hiscontemporaries as that of a man of re
. The old cryes of London. us they sing, as I have heard,With Hey, jolly buckets to milking-ward. And so pleasantly and effectively ends this delightful picture ofa day in the country from early morn to dewy eve in the period ofShakespeare. One wonders who wrote the words ? And also what promptedDeering to set them in such novel form. His setting affords furtherproof that in Richard Deering, so disparaged by musical historians,and so long overlooked by English musicians, we have a composer ofextraordinary versatility, and one whose name stands out among hiscontemporaries as that of a man of real genius. As already said, so far as I can discover, the only tune he quotes isthe little song Harvest home. It suggests a fragment of village OF music, with a possible imitation of the chimes of church bells, and I amtold on good authority that the tune is still sung in Cornwall at many Harvest homes. The rest of the music, including of course its well-written and tuneful parts for strings, is all by Deering, and in many. Fine Sev - ille Or - an - ges, fine Le - mons. respects it is more original and effective than even the admirable TownCryes. I rejoice in having been the medium—assisted by my friendDr. T. Lea Southgate, and by Mr. Pulver and Miss Higgins—of bringingthis masterpiece to the light of day. The complete poem, with a shortglossary, will, I think, be of interest : CRTSS OF LOO^DOD^ 71 COUNTRY Richard Veering, d. 1630. God give you good-morrow Sir Rice ap Thomas ap William ap Shones, Past three oclock and a fair morning. Why hold her scrape, you fitteling knave ? Get her from her mistress window. Harle, fling her collar on her head, for her play all night at Whipper Whipper Jack Jack sleepst or wakst ?Vast asleep vather, Cham vast asleep , Jack, rise and feed the cattle and the , vurst chill ha my breakfast, for all Cham fast , tig, tig, tig, &c. Coop, coop, coop, &c., Biddy, biddy, & mal, ho mal, ho mal, Ro
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