Favorite Poems: “Matty Groves” (“Little Musgrave”)

I’ve loved the Old English & Scottish Ballads since discovering them in high school–I came across them in both print & musical form at about the same time, in the college literature anthologies one of my teachers loaned me & on the early records of folk stars like Joan Baez & Buffy St. Marie. I came of age with the morally ambiguous stories of Lord Randall, Sir Patrick Spence, Matty Groves & others. I also came to love the ballad stanza’s mode of free but muscular expression & have adapted it pretty often in my own work, most recently in the manuscript I’ve just completed, River with Birds & Trees, in which every poem with four-line stanzas is effectively a free verse ballad, alternating long & short lines to develop my pieced-together narratives. Here is that standard list of variations & versions of “Matty Groves.”

My attraction to the ballad crystalized while I was in college with Dylan’s use of the form, as well as the recordings of traditional singers that proliferated in the 1970s. (I have to admit to a long-standing attraction to the pop-folk balladeer Donovan, especially his “Season of the Witch” with its fine line, “Must be the season of the witch / Beatniks out to make it rich . . .” “There is a Mountain,” & “Sand and Foam,” this last one a particularly fine example of the folk ballad put to popular use.) But the modernization of the traditional ballad can be said to date from Fairport Convention’s recording of “Matty Groves,” a ballad that goes back at least to the 17th century in Scotland, with a more English version of the same story going under the title “Little Musgrave.” In looking around on the internet this afternoon for links to some of these songs, I discovered a startlingly beautiful version of “Musgrave” by an acoustic band called Planxty, apparently of long standing, with whom I was not familiar. I recommend it.

A Quote from Ed Mycue for the 4th of July

This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.

“Preface to Leaves of Grass” by Walt Whitman.