Joseph Corfe (arr.)
(1740 - 1820)

Corfe (arr.) : The Lass of Patie's Mill : illustration

The Lass of Patie's Mill
(S.A.T.B. + reduction)
Full score (PDF), €0.20 for a single copy   Buy this item
Choir offer (PDF), €1.00 for 12 copies   Buy this item
Printable cover page (PDF), €0.00 for unlimited copies   Download this item

If you have any problem obtaining a PDF, please see our help page. If that does not resolve the issue, please click here.

Click on the illustration to display a larger version
Page 1 of 2
For licensing/copyright information please click here
Corfe, organist of Salisbury Cathedral, 1792 - 1804, issued two sets of "Twelve glees.... composed from ancient Scotch melodies" in the early 1790s, to satisfy two contemporary enthusiasms: that for mixed sex social music, and that for all things North-British. The current arrangement comes from the first set.

These glees were selected from a repertoire of well-known Scottish songs that had been anthologised in the previous seventy years. Corfe appears to have been particularly indebted for source material to James Johnson's "Scots Musical Museum", Edinburgh 1787, which included texts edited and improved by Robert Burns. Verses that are not underlaid were not included by Corfe, and have been imported from external sources (most especially the aforementioned "Scots Musical Museum").
Lyrics: Anon

The lass of Patie's mill,
So bonny blithe and gay;
In spite of all my skill,
She stole my heart away.
When tedding of the hay,
Bare-headed on the green,
Love 'midst her locks did play,
And wantoned in her een.

Her arms, white round and smooth,
Breasts rising in their dawn;
To age it would give youth,
To press them with his hand.
Through all my spirits ran
An ecstasy of bliss,
When I such sweetness sand
Wrapped in a balmy kiss.

Without the help of art,
Like flow'rs which grace the wild,
She did her sweets impart
Whene'er she spoke or smiled.
Her looks, they were so mild,
Free from affected pride,
She me to love beguiled:
I wished her for my bride.

O, had I all that wealth
Hopetoun's high mountains fill,
Insured long life and health,
And pleasure at my will;
I'd promise and fulfil
That none but bonny she,
The lass of Patie's mill,
Should share the same with me.