The more familiar version of this folksong is for solo voice; this version is for suprano and tenor, who swap the melody back and forth throughout the song. The accompaniment parts are identical. In the published version, George Thomson omitted the tenor voice, explaining that it was more effective sung as a solo. He asked the poet, William Smyth, to produce an extra stanza suitable for a duet, but none was forthcoming.

'Tis Sunshine at Last

'Tis sunshine at last, come, my Ellen, sit near me, And twine me these roses, we sorrow no more; Come taste of my cup, while it sparkles to cheer me, The cup that I fill, now the tempest is o'er. Oh! not that my mirth, with unhallow'd intrusion, Would thy gentle mind to rude transport beguile, But catch from my bowl one fond passing illusion, And crown my gay heart with thy sympathy's smile.

Come taste of my cup - for 'till Ellen shall share it, In vain are the roses - in vain is the wine: Past sorrow shall sweeten, and love shall prepare it, For forms that are softer and finer like thine. Bright beams a new world. and sweet visions break o'er us, And as landscapes are fresher when past are the show'rs, So richer the bliss and the gay hopes before us - For where are the hearts that have sorrow'd like ours.

Oh! ever, my love, must I think of that season, When, friendless, we mingled our terrors and sighs; And how had I failed, in the night of my reason, Had comfort not beam'd from thine eloquent eyes. Take the glass that I fill, take the homage I render: No riot shall break the soft dreams of the soul; Around us shall breathe an Elysium more tender, And finer enchantment be waked from my bowl. ---William Smyth

This is an incomplete early attempt at this folk song, consisting only of the vocal section, with the corresponding piano part. Presumably this was Beethoven's composition, but it should be noted that it exists only in a copy made by Anton Schindler in aut. 29.I, fo. 13v. In spite of Schindler's dubious reputation, the fact that this song draft is so little-known argues in favor of its authenticity.

Think not I'll leave fair Clwyd's vale;
To me tis fondly dear!
For still its scenes those hours reveal 
When I was blest,
When I was blest and Henry here. ---Mrs. Opie

The more familiar version of this song was actually the first version; this second version was written several years later but never published by Thomson. Thomson has complained about the original setting and its disjointed melodic line in the introduction, which he asked to be corrected. In particular, he stated that he was unable to hear the top notes of the right-hand part as a proper melody, and asked for a new introduction "in a cantabile style, with more melody in the piano part." Beethoven's revised version reached Thomson too late; he had already published the "unsatisfactory" version.

After the Glorious Revolution of 1688, the protestant Stadtholder Willem III of the Netherlands became King William III of England and Scotland. Through no fault of his own, the leader of the Scottish clan of the MacDonalds was too late pledging allegiance to the new king.

In the night of 12 on 13 February, 1692, the MacDonalds were treacherously assaulted by Archibald Campbell and his soldiers in the valley of Glencoe, just a few miles east of Ballachulish. About 40 members of the MacDonald clan, men and women, were brutally butchered. Although Campbell was under orders of the government, probably a feud between the MacDonalds and Campbells was the prime reason for this bloodbath. For more details, see http://www.laughingowl.com/Glencoe.htm .

The Catholics in Ireland, sworn enemies of William III, nursed the rememberance of the Glencoe Massacre as proof of the unreliability of Protestants in general, and of William III in particular. Thus the present song became part of Irish folklore.

The text of the poem as published by Thomson is by Sir Walter Scott, and begins as follows:

O tell me Harper
wherefore flow
they waywards notes
of wail and woe

for down the desert
of Glencoe
where none may list
their melody?

Say, harp'st thou to the
mists that fly,
or to the dundeer
glancing by,

or to the eagle,
that from high
screams chorus to thy
minstrel say?                

(There are 16 more stanzas, all of which were written after Beethoven had submitted the first version of the song.) 

This beautiful Irish song in D minor in its present form has a coda which is a fairly straightforward restatement of the melody line. However, in the autograph Artaria 187, we find the original draft of the piano part which has a unique and quite coda which repeats after each verse, and a rather peculiar and indecisive concluding coda. The rolling 16th-note triplets in the bass were, however, present from the very beginning. We see here another instance of Beethoven's inspiration being quite unusual and even startling, having to be "dumbed down" for the intended audience; however in this case this result came from Beethoven's own editing, rather than the requests of George Thomson. Beethoven apparently crossed the coda out almost immediately, as there are no string parts to correspond to the piano part. Thomson tacked on the third verse, which is a stanza from Robert Burns' poem, Ae Fond Kiss.

Farewell Bliss, and Farewell Nancy 

Farewell bliss and farewell Nancy, 
Farewell fleeting joys of fancy; 
Hopes and fears and sighs that languish
Now give place to cureless anguish. 
Why did I so fondly love thee? 
Why to mutual passion move thee? 
Why to wearing sorrow bring thee? 
Why let causeless slander sting thee?

Gazing on my precious treasure, 
Lost in reckless dreams of pleasure,
Thy unspotted heart possessing,
Grasping at the promis'd blessing,  
Pouring out my soul before thee,
Living only to adore thee, 
Could I see the tempest brewing? 
Could I dread the blast of ruin? 

Had we never lov'd so kindly;
Had we never lov'd so blindly, 
Never met, or never parted, 
We had ne'er been broken hearted. 
Faretheewell,  thou first and fairest, 
Faretheewell, thou best and dearest; 
Once fond kiss, and then we sever, 
One farewell, alas! forever.
                     ---Mrs. Anne Grant (Third stanza by Robert Burns)

This was the original conception of the song. The publisher, James Thomson, noted that the first ritornello (the introduction) was "too capricioso;" it contains several sudden changes of dynamics and a number of sforzandos. Thomson requested one that was "agreeable and cantabile, more resembling the air." Beethoven obliged with the setting which is now WoO 153 Nr. 5 (1812). Willy Hess in his Supplement to the Gesamtausgabe misidentifies the date as 1815. This early version has an interesting introduction which goes between piano and forte repeatedly, and the string voices have numerous sforzandos throughout. The revised version is more consistently piano throughout. While both version include some pizzicato in the string voices, the first version uses pizzicato more extensively, again with scattered sforzandos. This first version is clearly more interesting, and seems to better reflect the words which oscillate between pastoral delight and terror of the storm. The lyrics, commissioned by Thomson with the famed poet Robert Burns, fit the melody in a very awkward manner in both versions.

I dream'd I lay where flow'rs

I dream'd I lay where flow'rs wer springing, Gaily in the sunny beam;
I listen'd to the wild birds singing, By a falling chrystal stream.
At once the sky grew black and daring, 
While through the woods the whirlwinds rave;
The trees with aged arms were warring, 
Across the swelling drumlie wave. 

Such was my life's deceitful morning, 
Such the pleasures I enjoy'd: 
But long ere noon loud tempests storming,
All my flow'ry bliss destroy'd. 
Though fickle fortune has deceiv'd me, 
Promised fair, and perform'd but ill, 
Of many a joy and hope bereav'd me,
I bear a heart shall support me still. ----Robert Burns

Beethoven greatly simplified the accompaniment in the later version; the piano doubles the vocal line in the right hand and the bass is a simple quarter note line. In the first version, the piano has a complex figure of 16th notes off the beat shadowing the voice, and the vocal line is doubled by the string voices. In the final version, the string voices are almost irrelevant. This fits with George Thomson's stated desire to have the songs performable without the string parts; while the Hess 196 version could be performed without the string voices, a beginning vocalist might soon find herself at sea. Thomson specifically requested that the imitations which are in the piano of this version be instead given to the strings, with the piano to bear more of the melody.

I'll Praise the Saints with early Song

I'll praise the Saints with early song,
For now the wars are ended;
I'll praise our Lady late and long, 
That has my Love defended. 
Yes, home is come my Patrick dear,
From me no more to sever; 
And in his looks, I see it clear: 
He loves me more than ever.

He sits our evening fire beside, 
The cabin round surveying, 
And looks with all a father's pride, 
While near the child is playing. 
Even me he turns to gaze upon, 
As in my maiden beauty, 
Before my bloom was worn and gone 
By many a toilsome duty.

"My Love, he cries, thou canst not guess,
"Tho'kind and tender hearted, 
"What I have known of sad distress,
"Since last from thee I parted.   
"And little canst thou now suppose 
"How my poor heart is swelling,  
"To find myself at evening's close 
"In this my peaceful dwelling."

And, true - his cheek is sallow now, 
That once was bright and ruddy;  
A fearful scar is on his brow, 
The mark of battle bloody. 
And oft  in sleep disturb'd he seems, 
While o'er him i am bending; 
He makes the cross while in his dreams, 
As if for life contending. 

But  happier hours are coming fast, 
Sir Phelim - angels bless him -
 Says Patrick Toole shall rest at last, 
And nothing more distress him.  
He grants a farm, with turf-ground near, 
He grants a lease for ever; 
And heaven will bless, I need not fear, 
The honest heart's endeavour.   ---William Smyth

While Willy Hess in his Supplement to the Gesamtausgabe indicates this song as being from
1815, later research has shown that it in fact dates from 1810 and is one of the first set of
folksongs which Beethoven arranged. Thomson requested that it be revised, singe the piano
part was "much too brilliant" for a tender, plaintive song. However, this earlier version of
this Irish folk song is much less complex than the final version, with the exception of the
32nd note scales during the introduction and ritornello. The interesting variation is in the
piano part; in this earlier version, the right hand doubles both the rhythm and the melody of
the voice; in the final version the left hand doubles the rhythm against moving 16th notes
which more subtly follow the voice. The vocal cadenza is also far more elaborate in the final
version. 

'Tis but in Vain, For Nothing Thrives

'Tis but in vain, for nothing thrives,
Where Dermot has to do,
Ill fortune seems, however he strives,
His footsteps to pursue!
But one by one, when friends are gone,
Must I forsake him too.

O poverty! full sure thou art
A foe the most unkind;
And weary, weary is the heart
That feels thee still behind.
But one by one, when friends are gone,
Must I forsake him too.

I would my Lord could only see,
(For little can he know),
How cruel can the Driver be,
How sad my Dermot's woe.
But one by one, when friends are gone,
Must I forsake him too.

Next month he sails to find a home
Beyond the western tide;
And heav'n knows where he means to roam,
His houseless head to hide.
But one by one, when friends are gone,
Must I forsake him too.

My father says he cannot part,
And shews his hair so grey,
My mother's tears, I see them start
When thinking of the day.
But one by one, when friends are gone,
Must I forsake him too.

Oh! breathe it not thou passing wind,
I tell it thee alone,
My Dermot is not always kind--
He breaks my heart, I own.
But one by one, when friends are gone,
Must I forsake him too.

This Irish song in G minor has a very different accompaniment than the final version. The
introduction and ritornello are completely different, and while the piano and violin parts are
similar, the cello plays with the bow throughout, instead of the moving 16th note pizzicato
found in the final version. While the vocal lines are largely the same, the brief cadenzas are
quite different, and the instrumental coda on the published version is several measures
longer. The Hess 198 version has a much more mournful air to it. The song is to the air "The
pretty girl milking the cows," with words by William Smyth. 

1.  Oh! Would I were but that sweet Linnet!
That I had my apple tree too!
That I had my apple tree too!
Could sit all the sunny day on it,
With nothing but singing to do, 
Nothing but singing to do!
I'm weary with toiling and spinning,
And Dermot I never can see,
Nor sure am I Dermot of winning,
There's never good luck for poor me!

2.  Quite set was my heart all the Sunday 
On going to Killaloe fair,
So my father fell ill on the Monday,
And, look ye, I could not be there.
And it was not the fair that I minded,
For there was I Dermot to see;
But I'm always before or behind it,
And there's never good luck for poor me!

3.  I tried with my sweetest behaviour 
To tell our good priest my distress;
And ask'd him to speak in my favour,
When Dermot came next to confess.
But he said I was but a beginner,
And from love and temptation must flee!
So if love will but make me a sinner,
There's never good luck for poor me!

4.  Ye Saints, with the Virgin! believe me,
I join with the priest in your praise!
Contrive but my Dermot to give me,
And I'll love you the length of my days.
In vain would they bid me be wiser,
And never my Dermot to see,
Bad luck to advice and adviser!
Good luck! to dear Dermot and me!

                                          ---William Smyth

The first of these earlier versions has a good deal more movement in the violin and piano voices; clearly it was considered by Thomson to be too difficult for his intended audience for the folksong arrangements. At his request, Beethoven rewrote the string parts in the two versions which are the second version presented here, and the final version. The second version of the string voice is even more simple than that in the final version. Apparently Beethoven settled upon the third version as a happy medium. The one published by Thomson was labelled by Beethoven as "best."

The Maid of Isla

Maid of Isla from yon cliff,
That looks on troubled wave and sky,
Dost thou not see yon little skiff
Contend with ocean gallantly?
Now beating gainst the breeze and surge,
And steep'd her leeward deck in foam,
Why does she war unequal urge?
O Isla's Maid, she seeks her home.

O Isla's Maid, you seabird mark,
Her white wing gleams through mist and spray,
Against the stormcloud lowering dark,
As to the rock she wheels her way.
Where clouds are dark and billows rave,
Why to the shelter should she come
Of cliff exposed to wind and wave?
O Maid of Isla, 'tis her home!

As breeze and tide to yonder skiff,
Thou'rt adverse to the suit I bring,
And cold as is yon wintery cliff,
Where seabirds close their wearied wing.
Yet cold as rock, unkind as wave,
Still, Isla's Maid, to thee I come;
For in thy love, or in thy grave,
Must Allan Vourich find his home.
         ----Sir Walter Scott