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Merry Mountain Child
[ Roud 1769 ; TYG 42 ; words J. Tate (1849), music Joe Perkin (1857)]
Arthur Howard sang Merry Mountain Child in a 1981 recording made by Ian Russell in Hazlehead, Yorkshire. It was included in the same year as the title track of his Hill & Dale album Merry Mountain Child.
Joe Perkins, the noted Holmfirth composer and choirmaster, wrote Merry Mountain Child in about 1857. This thoroughly evocative lyric is Arthur’s favourite. Perkins is also responsible for the arrangement and popularisation of another local favourite, Pratty Flowers (Arthur can be heard singing this on A Fine Hunting Day, Holme Valley Beagles, Leader Records).
Barry Bridgwater sang Merry Mountain Child in Will Noble’s barn in Denby Dale, Yorkshire, on 27 September 1986. A recording of this day was released in 1987 on the EFDSS cassette Will’s Barn. This track was also included in 2003 on the Holmfirth Festival’s 25 years anniversary album, Roots & Wings.
Will Noble and John Cocking sang Merry Mountain Child in a live recording from the Three Horseshoes, Dutton Hill, Essex, on 21 April 2004, on their 2004 Veteran album Yon Green Banks. They and John Howson noted:
This was one of Arthur Howard’s favourite songs and it was from him that Will and John learned it. It was written in 1857 by local composer and choir master, Joe Perkin of Holmfirth and is rarely heard outside the area.
Jon Boden sang Merry Mountain Child in 2024 on his Hudson album with the Remnant Kings, Parlour Ballads.
Lyrics
Will Noble and John Cocking sing Merry Mountain Child
Come strike the harp I long to hear those merry tales of old.
Ere youth has lost its flowery wreath and loving hearts grown cold,
And loving, loving hearts grown cold.
It brings me back those happy days when roving free and wild,
I played about my native home, (×3)
A merry mountain child.
Oh tell me not of other lands across the deep blue sea,
This little isle of freedom’s sons is dearer far to me,
Is dearer, dearer far to me,
But tell me of that rural cot where happy faces smile,
And pleasant voices called me there, (×3)
A merry mountain child.
I’ve wandered far through many climes where dark eyed daughters dwell,
And beauty charms the yielding soul with her resistless spell,
With her, with her resistless spell,
Yet oft I’ve turned my face away where youth and beauty smile,
To think of all the joys that bless, (×3)
A merry mountain child.
Then strike the harp I long to hear those merry tales again,
Oh let me linger o’er those tones that native mountain strain,
That native, native mountain strain,
It brings me back those happy times that bleak and stormy wild,
Where nature makes me glad to be, (×3)
A merry mountain child.