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The meaning of the lyrics of the song "Lord Gregory" by the artist "Ye Vagabonds"

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The song "Lord Gregory" by the Irish folk duo Ye Vagabonds tells a tragic story of love and betrayal. The protagonist, a young woman from Cappoquin, pleads with her former lover, Lord Gregory, for help. She stands in the rain with a baby in her arms, but her pleas remain unanswered.

The words of the gatekeeper, informing her that Lord Gregory has gone to Scotland for a new bride, break her heart. The heroine recalls their passionate romance, but one marred by social inequality. She reminds Gregory of the night they exchanged rings - symbols of love, the value of which, like their origin, differed strikingly.

In despair, the young mother wonders about the future of her child, deprived of a father. The only person who could take care of the baby was Lord Gregory, but he abandoned them.

Suddenly, the heroine hears a knock on the door and recognizes the voice of a girl from Aughrim. This becomes a terrible revelation for her: Lord Gregory did not just marry another, he repeated his tactics of seduction, leaving another girl with a child in her arms.

In a fit of anger and despair, the heroine curses her mother for not saving her from this fate. At the end of the song, which is possibly the delirium of a grief-stricken mind, she decides to go in search of the girl from Aughrim to share her pain and perhaps find solace in their shared misfortune.

Oh, I am a poor girl straight from Cappoquin

In search of Lord Gregory, pray God I'll find him

The rain beats my yellow locks, the dew wets my skin

My babe is cold in my arms, "Lord Gregory, let me in.”

Lord Gregory's not here and henceforth can't be seen

He's gone to bonny Scotland to bring home his new queen

So leave now these windows and likewise this hall

For it's deep in the sea you should hide your downfall

Do you remember, Lord Gregory, that night in Cappoquin

We changed the rings from our fingers and that against my will?

For yours was pure silver, and mine was black tin

For yours cost twelve guineas, love, and mine not one cent

Do you remember, Lord Gregory, in my father's hall

Where you had your will of me, and that was worst of all

Who'll shoe my babe's little feet? Who'll put gloves on her hand?

Who'll tie my babe's middle with the long and green band?

Who'll comb my babe's yellow locks with an ivory comb?

Who'll be my babe's father till Lord Gregory comes home?

My curse on you, Mother, my curse it being sore

For I heard the lass of Aughrim came knocking at my door

Go lie down, my foolish son, now lie down and sleep

For it's long ago your weary maid went wailing in the deep

Go saddle me the black horse, the brown and the bay

Go saddle me the finest horse in my stable today

I will range over mountains, and valleys so wide

Till I find the lass of Aughrim and lie down by her side

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