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> Shirley Collins > Songs > Dearest Dear

A-Roving on a Winter’s Night / Dearest Dear

[ Roud 3601 ; G/D 8:1540 ; Ballad Index SKE40 ; trad.]

Shirley Collins sang the parting song Dearest Dear in 1964 on her and Davy Graham’s album Folk Roots, New Routes. This recording was also included in 2002 on her anthology Within Sound.

The song basically consist of a lot of floating verses that amongst others also appear in A-Roving on a Winter’s Night, a song from the family repertoire of Doc Watson of Deep Gap, North Carolina. His cousin Dolly Greer sang it in a 1964 recording that was published in 1977 on the LP The Watson Family Tradition.

Peter Bellamy and Lisa Null sang A-Roving on a Winter’s Night in 1979 on his LP Both Sides Then. The track was also included on his Free Reed anthology Wake the Vaulted Echoes.

Sara Grey sang As I Roved Out in 1994 on her Harbourtown CD Sara. She noted:

A mixed version from an early recording of Doc Watson and various other versions I’ve heard over the years.

Ian Robb sang A-Roving on a Winter’s Night on his 1994 CD From Different Angels. He noted:

A-Roving on a Winter’s Night is from the repertoire of the (Doc) Watson family of North Carolina, and I must give a nod to Jody Stecher and Kate Brislin’s version, as well as to that of Peter [Bellamy], Lisa Null and Bill Shute.

Steve Tilston sang Roving on a Winter’s Night in 1998 on his Fellside album Solorubato. He and Maggie Boyle also recorded it in 2006 for the Free Reed 4 CD anthology Midwinter.

Maggie Holland sang Roving on a Winter’s Night in 2003 on her CD Circle of Light. She noted:

I learned Roving on a Winter’s Night from the singing of Doc Watson—although the Appalachian tradition came up with a sprightly tune the words seem to be descended via various floating verses from My Love Is Like a Red Red Rose. (I don’t know what a “butter rose” is, but it sounds nice.) I think Robbie would have approved of the notion of drinking good old wine and reminiscing about some pretty little girl who’d broken his heart.

Jon Boden and Fay Hield sang A-Roving on a Winter’s Night as the 10 December 2010 entry of Jon’s project A Folk Song a Day.

Piers Cawley sang A-Roving on a Winter’s Night at a Trad Song Tuesday Twitter singaround. He included his recording in 2020 on his download EP Trad Song Tuesdays Volume 1.

Hannah Sanders and Ben Savage sang Winter’s Night in 2022 on their Topic CD Ink of the Rosy Morning. Ben Savage noted:

I learnt this from the inimitable Doc Watson. The opening imagery has always appeared so vivid and detailed in my mind’s eye.

The Furrow Collective sang Every Day Is Three in 2023 on their Hudson album We Know by the Moon. Lucy Farrell noted:

This is a variant of Dearest Dear noted down by Margaret MacArthur from someone in southern Vermont, and recorded on her 1975 album The Old Songs. I heard Tim Eriksen’s version on his 2012 album Josh Billings Voyage and it’s been in my head ever since.

Compare to this the related song The Turtle Dove.

Lyrics

Shirley Collins sings Dearest Dear

My dearest dear, the time draws near
When you and I must part,
And no one knows the inner grief
Of my poor aching heart.

Just to see what I suffered for your sake,
You are my love so dear.
I’d rather I could go with you
Or you could tarry here.

I wish your breast was made of glass
And in it I’d behold,
My name in secret I would write
In letters of bright gold.

Your name in secret I would write,
Believe me when I say
That you’re the one that I love best
Until my dying day.

And when you’re on some distant shore,
Think on your absent friend.
And when the wind blows high and clear
A line or two pray send.

And when the wind blows high and clear
Pray to send it love to me,
That I shall know by your hand-write
How times have gone with thee.

Dolly Greer sings A-Roving on a Winter’s Night

A-rovin’ on a winter’s night,
And a-drinkin’ good old wine;
Thinkin’ about that pretty little girl,
That broke this heart of mine.

She is just like a butter rose
That blooms in the month of June:
Or like some musical instrument
That’s just been lately tuned.

Perhaps it’s a trip to some foreign land
A trip to France or Spain.
But if I should go ten thousand miles
I’m a-comin’ back again.

And it’s who’s a-gonna shoe your poor little feet?
Who’s a-gonna glove your little hands?
Who’s a-gonna kiss your sweet little lips?
Honey who’s a-gonna be your man?

I’ll love you till the sea runs dry
And the rocks all melt in the sun;
I’ll love you till the day I die
Though you will never be my own.

(repeat first verse)

Peter Bellamy sings A-Roving on a Winter’s Night

A-roving on a winter’s night
And a-drinking good old wine;
A-thinking all about that pretty little girl,
She broke this heart of mine.

She is just like a bud of rose
That blooms in the month of June;
She’s like some musical instrument
That has just been lately tuned.

So perhaps it is a trip to a foreign land,
Some trip to France or Spain,
But though I’d go ten thousand miles
I am coming back again.

But tell me who is gonna shoe your poor little foot,
And who will glove your tiny hand?
Tell me who is gonna kiss your sweet, sweet lips,
Tell me who will be your man.

I will love you till all the seas run dry
And the rocks all melt in the sun;
I will love you till the day I die
Though you’ll never be my own.

(repeat first verse)

The Furrow Collective sing Every Day Is Three

Oh, my dearest dear, the time has come when we must part.
No one knows the inner grief of my poor aching heart
Or what I set sail or sank for the one I love so dear;
I wish that I could go with you or you could tarry here.

I wish my breast was made of glass and in it you might behold
Your name in secret I would write in letters of bright gold.
In letters of bright gold, true love, please believe me when I say,
You are the one that I love best until my dying day.

The crow that’s black, my dearest dear, will turn its colours white
The moon shall be in darkness, dear, the stars will give no light.
The brightest days to night, true love, all the elements shall mourn
If ever I prove false to be the raging seas shall storm.

Your company, my dearest dear, your company to me
Makes me think when you’re away that every day is three.
That every day is three, true love, and every hour ten,
Makes me weep when I should sleep and say I lost a friend.

So when you’re on some distant shore think on your absent friend,
When the wind blows high and clear a line to two please send.
When the wind blows high and clear please send a thought to me,
So I may know by your hand write how time has gone with thee.