Tensions between the band grew during the production in 1970 of their first album, Hark! The Village Wait to the point where they never again worked together after its completion, but the music itself shows no signs of these difficulties. While having a rock sensibility there is a greater sense of the authentic folk tradition than even in the best of Fairport, and a particular beauty arising from the two pairs of voices. The Woods being replaced by admired folk stalwart Martin Carthy, with violinist Peter Knight to widen the musical textures, the group late in 1970 recorded their most admired record Please to see the King. Ten Man Mop followed in 1971, more accomplished but generally felt to be less exciting. The expensive gatefold sleeve swallowed the band's royalties, and was referred to as a tombstone, since Hutchings and Carthy then left, to pursue Hutchings' new vision of a specifically English strand of folk rock with The Albion Band, and Steeleye Mk 2 folded.
However the inclusion of the less celebrated and more rock orientated replacements Rick Kemp and Bob Johnson led to the most commercially successful phase in the band's existence, vocalist Maddy Prior becoming the primary focus of the band, and a run of well received albums, from Below the Salt and Now we Are Six, their first with drummer Nigel Pegrum, to their eighth, and most commercially successful, All Around my Hat, in 1975.
Still active, they have a claim to be one of the longest-lived and perhaps the most commercially successful of all the folk rock bands of the era, thanks to their hit singles Gaudete and All Around My Hat, 3 top 40 albums and even a certified "gold" record with All Around My Hat.
Tim Hart died of lung cancer on 24 December 2009, aged 61.
Harvest
Steeleye Span Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴
Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reap'd
Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap'd:
Come, boys, come
And we'll roar out our Harvest Home
We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him agen,
One in ten
For prating so long like a book learned sot,
Till pudding and dumplin burn to the pot,
Burn to the pot
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand,
Then Ho for the times of Old England:
Old England
Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reap'd
Your barns will be full and your hovels heaped
The neck, the neck, the neck
Hard faced dames in hoods make haste
To cram their lapbags with the barley waste
Before the rout the leveret darts,
Bawled at by boys in blundering carts
Scorched there in the heat of the sun
The dinner hour their leisure won
Sweet, now the small beer goes
In hardwood bottles, we all knows
Start of the day the church bell's knell
And fear to hear the gleaning bell
We'll toil all day in the last of the hay
We'll scratch our days away
Beside the hedge the baby sleeps
While far the footsore rabble creeps
Dogs are left to mind the farm
But knaves slouch out to steal the grain
Pigs they all rootle there
Fields are full of din and blare
Time passes, as they glean
The hobby-horse whirls round and round
Stumbling now the gleaning's done.
The farmer's fat hares, slung upon his gun
Gives goodnight, as home they pull
In creaking handcarts bursting full,
Stacked well out of mischief's way,
To thrash and dress another day
Wives full of weary pride,
With such small riches satisfied
The neck
The lyrics in the song "Harvest" by Steeleye Span depict a lively celebration of the harvest season in old England. The repeated phrase "The neck, the neck, the neck" is a cheer or chant that adds to the festive atmosphere and highlights the importance of the harvest.
The first paragraph of the lyrics focuses on the abundance of the harvest. It mentions that the hay has been mowed, the corn has been reaped, and the barns will be filled and hovels (small dwellings) will be piled high. The invitation for the boys to come and join in the celebration emphasizes that it is a communal event.
The second paragraph takes a more cheeky tone, with the farmers boasting about outsmarting the parson and avoiding giving him a portion of their harvest. The reference to the parson as a "blockhead" suggests a playful defiance towards authority. This paragraph reflects a sentiment of rebellion and a desire to keep as much of the harvest for themselves as possible.
The third paragraph continues the celebration, describing the participants drinking ale until they can no longer stand. The exclamation of "Ho for the times of Old England" reflects a nostalgic appreciation for traditional customs and a sense of camaraderie among the revelers. It reinforces the song's theme of embracing the joy and abundance of the harvest season.
The final paragraph paints a picture of the activities surrounding the harvest. It mentions hard-faced dames (women) quickly gathering leftover barley, young boys chasing after leverets (young hares), and the heat of the sun affecting everyone's schedule and rhythm. There is a mention of the church bell tolling, creating a sense of urgency for the laborious work of gleaning (collecting leftover grains). The closing lines depict the tired but satisfied farmers and their families as they return home, with the women content with the small riches they have gathered. It portrays a sense of hard work, community, and satisfaction in a successful harvest.
Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS
Written by: STEELEYE SPAN
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
baqaqi
Fun fact: the first part is adapted from Henry Purcell's 1691 opera, King Arthur. Libretto by John Dryden
COMUS
Your hay, it is mow'd and your corn is reap'd,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heap'd.
Come, boys, come,
Come, boys, come,
And merrily roar out our harvest home.
CHORUS OF PEASANTS
Harvest home,
Harvest home,
And merrily roar out our harvest home.
COMUS
We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
One in ten, one in ten,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
PEASANTS
One in ten, one in ten,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
COMUS
For prating so long, like a book-learn'd sot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot:
Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to pot.
PEASANTS
Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot.
COMUS
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand;
And heigh for the honour of old England;
Old England, Old England,
And heigh for the honour of old England.
PEASANTS
Old England, Old England,
And heigh for the honour of old England.
Don't know about the second part. Anyway, I've just ordered the CD. Love me some Steeleye Span!
Tim Boxall
Lyrics to first part:
The neck! The neck! The neck!
Your hay it is mowed, your corn it is reaped,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heaped.
Your hay it is mowed, your corn it is reaped,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heaped.
Come, boys, come
Come, boys, come
Come, boys, come
Come, boys, come
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again,
Why should the blockhead have one in ten?
We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again,
Why should the blockhead have one in ten?
One in ten... (etc.)
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
For prating so long, like a book-learned sot,
When pudding and dumplings burn to the pot;
For prating so long, like a book-learned sot,
Til puddings and dumpling burn to the pot;
Burn to the pot... (etc.)
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand,
Then ho for the times of Olde England
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand,
Then ho for the times of Olde England
Olde England... (etc.)
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
Your hay it is mowed, your corn it is reaped,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heaped.
Your hay it is mowed, your corn it is reaped,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heaped.
Come, boys, come... (etc.)
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
The neck! The neck! The neck!
Tim Boxall
My best attempt at the second part:
Hard-faced dames in hoods make haste
To cram their lap-bags with the barley waste,
Before the rout, the leveret darts,
Bawled at by boys in blund'ring carts.
Scorched there in the heat of the sun,
The dinner-hour their leisure won,
Sweet now the small beer goes,
In hardwood bottles, we all knows
Start of the day the church bell's knell,
And fear to hear the gleaning bell,
We'll toil all day in the last of the hay,
We'll scratch our days away!
Beside the hedge the baby sleeps,
While far the footsore rabble creeps,
Dogs are left to mind the farm,
But knaves slouch out to steal the grain.
Pigs, they all rootle there,
The fields are full of din and blare,
Time passes as the glean,
The hobby horse whirls round and round
Start of the day the church-bells knell,
And fear to hear the gleaning bell,
We'll toil all day in the last of the hay,
We'll scratch our days away!
Start of the day the church-bells knell,
And fear to hear the gleaning bell,
We'll toil all day in the last of the hay,
We'll scratch our days away!
Stumbling now the gleaning's done,
The farmer's fat hares, slung upon his gun,
Gives "goodnight" as home they pull,
In creaking handcarts bursting full.
Stacked well out of mischief's way,
To thrash and dress another day,
Wives, full of weary pride
With such small riches satisfied
Start of the day the church bell's knell,
And fear to hear the gleaning bell,
We'll toil all day in the last of the hay,
We'll scratch our days away!
Start of the day the church-bells knell,
And fear to hear the gleaning bell,
We'll toil all day in the last of the hay,
We'll scratch our days away!
The neck!
Vicky Stanley
This song is rollicking, rustic and regal all the same time. Love it!
Art Arteiro
wtf but I just liked this comment
Redneck Rosey
Love Jessie May Smart’s fiddle playing, all brilliant musicians
Anthony Moore
Utterly captivating. Maddy is a goddess and whether it's Jessie or Violeta or Peter on violin it's in a class of its own.
baqaqi
Fun fact: the first part is adapted from Henry Purcell's 1691 opera, King Arthur. Libretto by John Dryden
COMUS
Your hay, it is mow'd and your corn is reap'd,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heap'd.
Come, boys, come,
Come, boys, come,
And merrily roar out our harvest home.
CHORUS OF PEASANTS
Harvest home,
Harvest home,
And merrily roar out our harvest home.
COMUS
We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
One in ten, one in ten,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
PEASANTS
One in ten, one in ten,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
COMUS
For prating so long, like a book-learn'd sot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot:
Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to pot.
PEASANTS
Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot.
COMUS
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand;
And heigh for the honour of old England;
Old England, Old England,
And heigh for the honour of old England.
PEASANTS
Old England, Old England,
And heigh for the honour of old England.
Don't know about the second part. Anyway, I've just ordered the CD. Love me some Steeleye Span!
Tim Boxall
Lyrics to first part:
The neck! The neck! The neck!
Your hay it is mowed, your corn it is reaped,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heaped.
Your hay it is mowed, your corn it is reaped,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heaped.
Come, boys, come
Come, boys, come
Come, boys, come
Come, boys, come
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again,
Why should the blockhead have one in ten?
We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again,
Why should the blockhead have one in ten?
One in ten... (etc.)
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
For prating so long, like a book-learned sot,
When pudding and dumplings burn to the pot;
For prating so long, like a book-learned sot,
Til puddings and dumpling burn to the pot;
Burn to the pot... (etc.)
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand,
Then ho for the times of Olde England
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand,
Then ho for the times of Olde England
Olde England... (etc.)
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
Your hay it is mowed, your corn it is reaped,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heaped.
Your hay it is mowed, your corn it is reaped,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heaped.
Come, boys, come... (etc.)
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
And we'll roar out, roar out, roar out our harvest home!
The neck! The neck! The neck!
Geoff Baker
A taste of the new album presumably. Looking forward to more of this.
Geert Jan Wagemans
Holy Cow!!!! This is absolutely AWESOME!!! Please, can someone help me to get the full lyrics? Is this song on any album?
Jean Louis Laenens
@Tim Boxall Thank you very much Tim !!!
Tim Boxall
@Jean Louis Laenens My best attempt at lyrics posted above!