words and music by Elizabeth Sidebotham
One fine day in the middle of June a fine young fellow came playing his tune, and as he played all the merry, merry maids came following, following, following, following. He sat down on a gnarled old stump, next the primroses yellow, all growing in a clump, and his melodies rang through the tall green trees as the merry maidens laughed and danced and teased.
Suddenly up he sprang from his perch “‘Tis Sunday ! won’t you follow me to church?” but the merry, merry maid all ran away so fast save for one fair damsel asleep upon the grass. He tiptoed over and knelt by her side. Her rosy lips parted and her eyes grew wide. “Do not be afraid” said the musical fellow, “Come with me, I’ll show you daffodils so yellow and the bluebells, bluebells, bluebells, bluebells, bluebells”.
She followed him o’er the carpet of green to a clearing in the wood, but all she saw was the sky above and all she heard was a turtle dove. Twas twelve month and more when she returned to the scene. Now four feet danced on that carpet of green and she lay down, her baby by her side, her rosy lips parted and her eyes grew wide, for all she could see was a blanket of blue and the words he had spoken she now knew were true. “For he told me there’d be bluebells, bluebells, bluebells. He told me they’d be bluebells here.”