All John Jeffreys Lyrics (en) Total 30
John Jeffreys - The BirdsWhen Jesus Christ was four years old The angels brought Him toys of gold Which no man ever had bought or sold And yet with these He would not play He made Him small fowl out
John Jeffreys - In Youth Is PleasureIn an arbour green asleep whereas I lay The birds sang sweet in the middis of the day: I dreamed fast of mirth and play; In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure Methought
John Jeffreys - All Night Under the MoonAll night under the moon Plovers are flying Over the dreaming meadows of silvery light Over the meadows of June Calling and crying Wandering voices of love in the hush of the
John Jeffreys - Near SpringNow the strong horse goes loose at last Free for his strength in the February's end Floods have left the meadows and gone past To the broader rivers, rocks and sand
John Jeffreys - An Old DesireI searched thro' memory's lumber-room And there I found an old desire I took it gently from the gloom To cherish by my scanty fire And all the night a sweet-voiced
John Jeffreys - My Dear LadyAm not I in blessed case Treasure and pleasure to possess? I would not wish no better place If I may still have wealthiness And to enjoy in perfect peace My lady, lady
John Jeffreys - Tom Collier of CroydonTom Collier of Croydon hath sold his coals And made his market to-day; And now he danceth with the Devil For like will to like alway Wherefore let us rejoice and sing
John Jeffreys - Who Is at My Window?Who is at my window? Who? Who? Go from my window! Go! Go! Who calls there, like a stranger Go from my window! Go! "Lord, I am here, a wretched mortal That for thy
John Jeffreys - 'Tis Time I Think'Tis time, I think, by Wenlock town The golden broom should blow; The hawthorn sprinkled up and down Should charge the land with snow Spring will not wait the
John Jeffreys - Thirteen Pence a DayThe Queen she sent to look for me The sergeant he did say "Young man, a soldier will you be For thirteen pence a day?" For thirteen pence a day did I Take off
John Jeffreys - The FarewellO my Luve's like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June: O my Luve's like the melodie That's sweetly play'd in tune As fair art thou, my bonnie
John Jeffreys - Stow-on-the-WoldI met an old man at Stow-on-the-Wold Who shook and shivered as though with cold And he said to me: " Six sons I had And each was a tall and a lively lad "But
John Jeffreys - Poem for EndSo the last poem is laid flat in its place And Crickley with Crucifix Comer leaves from my face Elizabethans and night-working thoughts -- of such grace And all the dawns that
John Jeffreys - OtterburnThe lad who went to Flanders Otterburn, Otterburn The lad who went to Flanders And never will return Though low he lies in Flanders Beneath the Flemish mud He
John Jeffreys - Merry EyeOn the day ere I was born Underneath the ragged thorn Three old women hobbled by One, she had an empty sack One, she had a humpy back One, she had a merry eye
John Jeffreys - Little Trotty WagtailLittle Trotty Wagtail he went in the rain And twittering, tottering sideways he ne'er got straight again He stooped to get a worm and looked up to get a fly And then he flew away
John Jeffreys - I Will Go With My Father a-PloughingI will go with my father a-ploughing To the green field by the sea And the rooks and the crows and the seagulls Will come flocking after me I will sing to the patient horses
John Jeffreys - It Is WinterThe abode of the nightingale is bare Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air The fox howls from his frozen lair: Alas, my loved one is gone I am alone: It is winter
John Jeffreys - Jillian of BerryFor Jillian of Berry she dwells on a hill And she hath good beer and ale to sell And of good fellows she thinks no ill And thither will we go now, now, now And thither will we go
John Jeffreys - Candle GateWho comes so late to Candle Gate? Who comes so late By rainy bent and roaring spate? Who knocks so late at Candle Gate? Who knocks so late ? Who knocks so low, yet will
John Jeffreys - Awake Thee, My BessyAwake thee, my Bessy, the morning is fair The breath of young roses is fresh on the air The sun has long glanced over mountain and lake Then awake from thy slumbers, my Bessy, awake
John Jeffreys - A Lyke-Wake DirgeThis ae nighte, this ae nighte Every nighte and alle Fire and fleete and candle-lighte And Christe receive thy saule When thou from hence away art past Every nighte and
John Jeffreys - This Is the Weather the Cuckoo LikesThis is the weather the cuckoo likes And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut spikes And nestlings fly; And the little brown nightingale bills his best And they sit
John Jeffreys - The WhinCruel and bright as the whin Is my love, my love And cold as the light on the linn The light of her eyes Free as the kestrel in air Is my love, my love And dark as
John Jeffreys - Passing ByThere is a lady sweet and kind Was never face so pleas'd my mind; I did but see her passing by And yet i love her till i die Her gesture, motion, and her smiles Her
John Jeffreys - Drop, Drop Slow TearsDrop, drop, slow tears And bathe those beauteous feet Which brought from Heaven The news and Prince of Peace: Cease not, wet eyes His mercy to entreat; To cry for
John Jeffreys - When That I Was and a Little Tiny BoyWhen that I was and a little tiny boy With hey, ho, the wind and the rain A foolish thing was but a toy For the rain it raineth every day But when I came to man's
John Jeffreys - O Mistress MineO mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear, your true love's coming That can sing both high and low Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in
John Jeffreys - Black StitchelAs I was lying on Black Stitchel The wind was blowing from the South And I was thinking of the laughters Of my love's mouth As I was lying on Black Stitchel The
John Jeffreys - NorthumberlandHeatherland and bent-land -- Black land and white God bring me to Northumberland The land of my delight Land of singing waters And winds from off the sea God bring
John Jeffreys
John Jeffreys (1927-2010) was born to Welsh parents in Thanet, Kent, and composed very much in a traditional English pastoral vein. Unable to receive much recognition in the 1970s, he destroyed much of his music and worked as a garden designer for council housing, writing a couple of books on the subject. However, in the following decade, he found a tape of his works and was able to reconstruct some of his music.