> Steeleye Span > Songs > The Elf-Knight

The Elf-Knight

[ Roud 21 ; Child 4 ; Ballad Index C004 ; words trad., music and arr. Bob Johnson]

Steeleye Span recorded this song for their album Time. A live recording from St. David's Hall, Cardiff on December 6, 1994 was released on the video 25 Live: The Classic Twenty Fifth Anniversary Tour Concert. Another live recording from The Forum, London on September 2, 1995 was released on the CD The Journey. The original album's sleeve notes commented:

A simple but vivid story, this ballad evokes many powerful images—a hazy afternoon in late June when the roses are full blown—Lady Isabel sitting alone in a castle room, with a shaft of sunlight playing on the tapestry that she is weaving—somewhere out there, beyond this world and the “fields we know,” the elf-knight sits, arrogant, dark and brooding. He blows his horn and enchants her—she breathes a wish for him—in an instant he has broken through the barrier—two worlds collide, reality and fantasy, good and evil …

Compare this to Martin Carthy's The Outlandish Knight on his album Shearwater and Waterson:Carthy singing it on their album A Dark Light.

Lyrics

The elf-knight sits on yonder hill,
Fine flowers in the valley.
He blows his horn both loud and shrill,
As the rose is blown.

He blows it east, he blows it west,
Fine flowers in the valley.
He blows it where he liketh best,
As the rose is blown.

Lady Isabel sits a-sewing
When she heard the elf-knight's horn a-blowing.

“Would I had that horn a-blowing
And yon elf-knight for to sleep in my bosom.”

Scarcely had she these words spoken
When in at the window the elf-knight's broken.

“It's a very strange matter, fair maid,” said he,
“I cannot blow my horn, but you call on me.”

“But will you go to the greenwood side?
If you will not go, I'll cause you to ride.”

He leapt on his horse and she on another
And they rode on to the greenwood together.

“Light down, light down, Isabel,” said he,
“For we're come to the place where you are to die.”

“It's seven kings daughters here have I slain
And you shall be the eighth of them.”

“Sit down a-while, lay your head on my knee
That we may rest before I die.”

She stroked him so fast the nearer he did creep,
And with a small charm she's lulled him to sleep.

With his own sword-belt, so fast she's bound him,
With his own dagger so sore she's stabbed him.

“If seven kings daughters here have you slain,
Then lie you here, a husband to them all.”