Cavalier Song/Home Thoughts from Abroad [BROWNING poems set to music]
Channel: tobydarling
Date: 2020-05-27

Cavalier Song (Browning)

Am G F Em
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, 
C G Am7
Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing: 
Am G F Em
And, pressing a troop unable to stoop 
C G Am7
And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop, 
C G Dm Am
Marched them along, fifty score strong, 
C G B7
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song. 
Em Am Em Am
God for King Charles! Pym and such carles 
C G Am
To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles! 
Em Am Em Am
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup, 
C G B7
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup 
Till you're- 

(Chorus) 
Em D C G
Marching along, fifty-score strong, 
F G Am
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song. 

Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell. 
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well! 
England, good cheer! Rupert is near! 
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here 

(Chorus) 
Marching along, fifty-score strong, 
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song? 

Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls 
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles! 
Hold by the right, you double your might; 
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight, 

(Chorus) 
March we along, fifty-score strong, 
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!


Home-Thoughts, from Abroad 
By Robert Browning 
Bm F#m
Oh, to be in England 
C Em
Now that April's there, 
G D
And whoever wakes in England 
Em C
Sees, some morning, unaware, 
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf 
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, 
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough 
In England—now! 

G Bm
And after April, when May follows, 
C G
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows! 
Bm C
Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge 
D Em
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover 
D C
Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge— 
G Am
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, 
Bm C
Lest you should think he never could recapture 
G - C D
The first fine careless rapture! 
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, 
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew 
The buttercups, the little children's dower 

—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower! 





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