polly and harry
Polly and Harry
Polly and Harry appeared in the collections of 1871, 1886 and 1888.
Like the lark so merry
At the break of day
Polly meeteth Harry
Coming down the way
And her lips they quiver
When her eyes discover
Harry’s smiles that give her
Hope throughout the day.
Merry, blythe and merry
Neath the noontide ray
Polly meeteth Harry
Coming up the way
And his words they put her
Poor heart in a flutter
And no tongue can utter
What her looks betray.
Polly still is merry
At the close of day
That’s when she sees Harry
Kissing Elly Gray
And when this she spieth
All her laughter dieth
And her poor heart crieth
Woe and well-a-day
Polly’s found another
Man to be her beau
What she saw in Harry
She will never know
Now she’s going steady
And they’re getting ready
For a summer wedding
She’s a happy lass.
As for faithless Harry,
Elly turned him down
Because he tried it on
With all the girls around
Now he is regretting
He did so much messing
Can he learn his lesson?
Only time will tell.
I was attracted to this poem because of its structure and rhyming pattern, which is similar to one used in a number of old ballad tunes. However, I didn't like the way it ended. The original poem was just three verses long and ended with Polly heartbroken. This representation of the distressed maiden seemed to me very much of its time, with its appeal to masculine sympathies, but gender politics have moved on since then. So I decided to add a sequel - the two verses in the right-hand column are mine and I hope Joseph, who clearly had respect for women, and especially working-class women, would approve. I also altered the words a little, to make them easier to follow on a first hearing. The tune is reminiscent of some Northumbrian dance tunes in 19th century collections.
In Carols from the Coalfields (1886) and Carols, Songs and Ballads (1888), the poem appears as follows:
POLLY AND HARRY
Merry, lark-like, merry,
At the break of day,
Polly meeteth Harry
Coming down the way;
And her lips they quiver
When her eyes discover
Smiles that speak - ah never
Peace unto the May.
Merry, blythe and merry
'Neath the noontide ray,
Polly meeteth Harry
Coming up the way;
And his accents put her
Fond heart in a flutter -
And no tongue can utter
What her looks betray.
Merry, yet so merry,
At the close of day,
Polly spyeth Harry
Wooing Ely Gray!
And when this she spyeth
Lo! her reason dieth,
And her heart rent, cryeth
"Woe and well-a-day"