The Bunch of Violets Blue

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Although this song has a fairly "modern" "feel" to it I have been unable to trace an author. I learned it from the singing of Ina Miller, after having first heard it sung by one of the "Pennymoor" singers.

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It was out in a moonlit garden
Not far from where we stand
A soldier and his truelove
Went strolling hand-in-hand
For tomorrow the war would call him
He swore he would be true
And from her breast she gave to him
A bunch of violets blue

It was only a bunch of violets
A bunch of violets blue
Fresh and fair and fragrant
All sparkling like the dew
They were fresh and fair and dainty
As he pressed them to his heart
He smiled and said where're I roam
From them I'll never part 

Well a soldier lad lay dying
All on the cold cold ground
A bunch of withered violets
upon his breast they found
He called unto his comrades
In a feeble voice he sighed
Take them back and telll her that
I wore them till I died

It was only a bunch of violets
A bunch of violets blue
Fresh and fair and fragrant
All sparkling like the dew
They were fresh and fair and dainty
As he pressed them to his heart
He smiled and said where're I roam
From them I'll never part 

They took back the violets
It was on her wedding day
An old man's gold had won her
From her soldier far away
An old man's gold had won her
From her soldier young and tall
And this is what he said to her
That evening at the ball... 

It was only a bunch of violets
A bunch of violets blue
Fresh and fair and fragrant
All sparkling like the dew
They were fresh and fair and dainty
As he pressed them to his heart
He smiled and said where're I roam
From them I'll never part

The following variant is as recorded by Rod Stradling, sung by Daisy Chapman at the Blairgowrie Festival in August 1969. Danny Stradling also recorded this version with the Old Swan Band on "Old Swan Brand" in 1978:

'Twas in a moonlit garden not far from Ballygreen,
A soldier and his true love were walking hand in hand;
Tomorrow he must leave her, she promised to be true,
And from her breast she gave to him a bunch of violets blue.

'Twas only a bunch of violets, a bunch of violets blue,
So pure, so sweet, so dainty, that sparkles like the dew;
'Twas only a bunch of violets, as he pressed them to his heart,
And swore by all, that should he fall, with them he'd never part.

A soldier he lay dying upon a battlefield,
With the bunch of faded violets into his breast were sealed;
He whispered to his comrade as life was ebbing fast,
"Take back her faded violets, I've kept them to the last."

He took her back her violets, 'twas on her wedding day,
For a rich man's gold had won her from her soldier far away;
The tears were gently falling as she heard her soldier calling,
"Wear those faded violets upon your wedding day."

Here is another variant:

 IT WAS UP IN A MOONLIT GARDEN
NOT FAR FROM THE BALLROOM GRAND
A YOUNG LAD AND HIS SWEETHEART
WENT STROLLING HAND IN HAND
TOMORROW THE WAR WOULD CALL HIM -
HE VOWED HE WOULD BE TRUE
THEN FROM HER BREAST SHE GAVE TO HIM
A BUNCH OF VIOLETS BLUE

IT WAS ONLY A BUNCH OF VIOLETS -
A BUNCH OF VIOLETS BLUE
FRESH AND FAIR AND FRAGRANT
LIKE DIAMONDS ON THE DEW
FRESH AND FAIR AND DAINTY AS
HE FETCHED THEM TO HIS HEART
HE SMILED AND SAID WHERE'ER HE'D ROAM
FROM THEM HE'D N'ER WOULD PART

A SOLDIER BOY LAY DYING
UPON THE COLD,COLD GROUND
A BUNCH OF WITHERED VIOLETS
UPON HIS BREAST WAS FOUND
TURNING TO HIS COMRADES
IN A FEEBLE VOICE HE SIGHED
TAKE THEM BACK AND TELL HER
I WORE THEM TILL I DIED

THEY TOOK HER WITHERDED VIOLETS
BEEN ON HER WEDDING DAY
AN OLD MAN'S GOLD HAD WON HER
FROM A SOLDIER FARAWAY
AN OLD MAN'S GOLD HAD WON HER
FROM A SOLDIER YOUNG AND TALL
AND THIS IS WHAT SHE SAID TO HIM
ONE EVENING AT THE BALL

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