Greensleeves
Since it came up in chat the other night, I dug up the earliest known version of Greensleeves, from 1584. (According to Wiki, a reference to the song appears in 1580 as "A New Northern Dittye of the Lady Greene Sleeves" registered at the London Stationer's Company, but this is the earliest version of the lyrics.)
Biggest difference from the modern version? The original has 21 stanzas (not counting the repeat choruses) and the Loreena McKennit version has 4.
(Click to enlarge for easier reading.)
A new Courtly Sonet, of the Lady Green sleeues.
To the new tune of Greensleeues.
Greensleeues was all my ioy,
Greensleeues was my delight:
Greensleeues was my hart of gold,
And who but Ladie Greensleeues.
ALas my loue, ye do me wrong,
to cast me off discurteously:
And I haue loued you so long,
Delighting in your companie.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy,
Gréensléeues was my delight:
Gréensléeues was my heart of gold,
And who but Ladie Gréensléeues.
I haue been readie at your hand,
to grant what euer you would craue.
I haue both waged life and land,
your loue and good will for to haue.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
I bought thée kerchers to thy head,
that were wrought fine and gallantly:
I kep thée both at boord and bed,
Which cost my purse wel fauouredly,
Gréensléeues was al my toie, &c.
I bought thee peticotes of the best,
the cloth so fine as fine might be:
I gaue thée iewels for thy chest,
and all this cost I spent on thée.
Gréensléeues was all my ioie, &c.
Thy smock of silk, both faire and white,
with gold embrodered gorgeously:
Thy peticote of Sendall right: a
nd thus I bought thée gladly.
Gréensléeues was all my ioie, &c.
Thy girdle of gold so red,
with pearles bedecked sumptuously:
The like no other lasses had,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me,
Greensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thy purse and eke thy gay gilt kniues,
thy pincase gallant to the eie:
No better wore the Burgesse wiues,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thy crimson stockings all of silk,
with golde all wrought aboue the knée,
Thy pumps as white as was the milk,
and yet thou wouldst no· loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thy gown was of the grossie gréen,
thy sléeues of Satten hanging by:
Which made thée be our haruest Quéen,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thy garters fringed with the golde,
And siluer aglets hanging by,
Which made thee blithe for to beholde,
And yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
My gayest gelding I thée gaue,
To ride where euer liked thee,
No Ladie euer was so braue,
And yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
My men were clothed all in gréen,
And they did euer wait on thée:
Al this was gallant to be séen,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
They set thée vp, they took thée downe,
they serued thée with humilitie,
Thy foote might not once touch the ground,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
For euerie morning when thou rose,
I sent thée dainties orderly:
To cheare thy stomack from all woes,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thou couldst desire no earthly thing.
But stil thou hadst it readily:
Me thinks they do resound,
with doleful tunes, me to lament,
And in my sléep vnfound, alas,
Me thinks such dreadful things to passe:
that out I crie in midst of dreames,
Wherwith my tears run down as streams,
O Lord, think I,
She is not here that should be by:
What chance is this,
That I embrace that froward is?
The Lions noble minde,
His raging mood (you know) oft staies,
When beasts do yéeld by kinde,
On them (forsooth) he neuer praies:
Then sithence that I am your thrall,
To ease my smart on you I call.
A bloudie conquest is your part,
To kill so kind a louing heart:
Alas remorce,
Or presently I die perforce:
God grant pitie,
Within your breast now planted be.
As nature hath you deckt,
with worthie gifts aboue the rest,
So to your praise most great,
Let pitie dwell within your brest,
That I may sae with heart and wil,
Lo, this is she that might me kil:
For why· in hand she held the knife,
And yet (forsooth) she saued my life.
Biggest difference from the modern version? The original has 21 stanzas (not counting the repeat choruses) and the Loreena McKennit version has 4.
(Click to enlarge for easier reading.)
A new Courtly Sonet, of the Lady Green sleeues.
To the new tune of Greensleeues.
Greensleeues was all my ioy,
Greensleeues was my delight:
Greensleeues was my hart of gold,
And who but Ladie Greensleeues.
ALas my loue, ye do me wrong,
to cast me off discurteously:
And I haue loued you so long,
Delighting in your companie.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy,
Gréensléeues was my delight:
Gréensléeues was my heart of gold,
And who but Ladie Gréensléeues.
I haue been readie at your hand,
to grant what euer you would craue.
I haue both waged life and land,
your loue and good will for to haue.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
I bought thée kerchers to thy head,
that were wrought fine and gallantly:
I kep thée both at boord and bed,
Which cost my purse wel fauouredly,
Gréensléeues was al my toie, &c.
I bought thee peticotes of the best,
the cloth so fine as fine might be:
I gaue thée iewels for thy chest,
and all this cost I spent on thée.
Gréensléeues was all my ioie, &c.
Thy smock of silk, both faire and white,
with gold embrodered gorgeously:
Thy peticote of Sendall right: a
nd thus I bought thée gladly.
Gréensléeues was all my ioie, &c.
Thy girdle of gold so red,
with pearles bedecked sumptuously:
The like no other lasses had,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me,
Greensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thy purse and eke thy gay gilt kniues,
thy pincase gallant to the eie:
No better wore the Burgesse wiues,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thy crimson stockings all of silk,
with golde all wrought aboue the knée,
Thy pumps as white as was the milk,
and yet thou wouldst no· loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thy gown was of the grossie gréen,
thy sléeues of Satten hanging by:
Which made thée be our haruest Quéen,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thy garters fringed with the golde,
And siluer aglets hanging by,
Which made thee blithe for to beholde,
And yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
My gayest gelding I thée gaue,
To ride where euer liked thee,
No Ladie euer was so braue,
And yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
My men were clothed all in gréen,
And they did euer wait on thée:
Al this was gallant to be séen,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
They set thée vp, they took thée downe,
they serued thée with humilitie,
Thy foote might not once touch the ground,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
For euerie morning when thou rose,
I sent thée dainties orderly:
To cheare thy stomack from all woes,
and yet thou wouldst not loue me.
Gréensléeues was all my ioy, &c.
Thou couldst desire no earthly thing.
But stil thou hadst it readily:
Me thinks they do resound,
with doleful tunes, me to lament,
And in my sléep vnfound, alas,
Me thinks such dreadful things to passe:
that out I crie in midst of dreames,
Wherwith my tears run down as streams,
O Lord, think I,
She is not here that should be by:
What chance is this,
That I embrace that froward is?
The Lions noble minde,
His raging mood (you know) oft staies,
When beasts do yéeld by kinde,
On them (forsooth) he neuer praies:
Then sithence that I am your thrall,
To ease my smart on you I call.
A bloudie conquest is your part,
To kill so kind a louing heart:
Alas remorce,
Or presently I die perforce:
God grant pitie,
Within your breast now planted be.
As nature hath you deckt,
with worthie gifts aboue the rest,
So to your praise most great,
Let pitie dwell within your brest,
That I may sae with heart and wil,
Lo, this is she that might me kil:
For why· in hand she held the knife,
And yet (forsooth) she saued my life.