Annotation:Glancing of her Apron (The)
X:1 T:Glancing of her Apron, The M:C L:1/8 R:Air B: William Thomson - Orpheus Caledonius, vol. II (1733, No. 42, p. 172) B: https://digital.nls.uk/special-collections-of-printed-music/archive/91482038 N:Thomson (c. 1695-1753) was a Scottish singer and folk song collector N:who lived in London for most of his adult career. Z:AK/Fiddler’s Companion P:Vocal: K:D c|d c B A {Bc}d2-A F|G G g f e3c|d c B A {Bc}d2-A F|G G A c {c}d3|| A|def d g f e c|d>e f>g e3c|d c B A {Bc}d2 A F/ F/|G G Ac {c}d3||
GLANCING OF HER APRON, THE. Scottish, Air (whole time). D Major. Standard tuning (fiddle). AABBCC. William Chappell attributes the air to Tom Farmer, and says the original song gave three names to the tune, "In January Last" (from the opening words), "The Glenting of her Apron," and "The Bonny Brow." "Glancing of her Apron" is a corruption of the line "Yean glenting in an apron with a bonny brent bow," which Chappell takes to mean "one glancing, or flashing a saucy look, from under her bon-grace or sunshade, or skreen of twilled cloth, usually pink or buff in colour to suit the complexion and preserve it from freckles." The lyric appears in the Roxburghe Collection as "Scotch Wedding (The); or, A Short and Pretty Way of Wooing," "to a New Northern Tune, much used at the Theatres [The Bonny Brow; or, "The Glenting of her Apron]]." The music was published by John Playford in his Choice Ayres (1679, ii, 46). Tom D'Urfey printed it in his Pills to Purge Melancholy (1719), and is sometimes credited with it, although he himself said of it: "A part of which is not mine." It was also printed by Allan Ramsay in his Tea-Table Miscellany, vol. ii (1725, No. 17). "The Glancing of the Apron" was one of the Scottish songs set by classical composer Franz Joseph Haydn, Hob. XXXIa:88. The lyric goes:
In lovely August last,
On Munanday at morn,
As thro' the fields I past,
To view the yellow corn:
I looked me behind,
And saw come o'er the know,
Ane glancing in her apron,
With a bonny brent brow.
I said, good morrow, fair maid,
And she, right courteouslie,
Return'd a beck, and kindly said,
"Good day, sweet sir, to thee."
I speir'd, my dear, how far awa'
Do ye intend to gae?
Quoth she, I mean a mile or twa,
And o'er yon bonny brae.
Fair maid, I'm thankfu' to my fate,
To have sic company,
For I am ganging straight that gate,
Where ye intend to be.
When we had gane a mile or twain,
I said to hir, my dow,
May wee not lean us on this plain,
And kiss your bonny mou'.
