Blaise Compton's good sleeve-note tells of the genesis of these songs and in doing so 'places' them. They have to do with Nature, but ''Nature dressed in cultivated trim.'' They are Welsh but packaged in a cultural Common Market. They come from the countryside and are tailored to suit the salon. Haydn, it appears, was sent a batch of melodies (without the words of the songs) and asked by the publisher George Thompson to add accompaniments. This was in his old age when there were no more major works to come; Compton suggests that he may have been assisted by one of his students. The introductions and 'links' generally bear the stamp of the composer clearly enough, and many are delightful (the song which gives its title to the record, The rising of the lark, being a case in point). Occasionally a sophisticated harmony or chromatic progression seems to be at odds with the true nature of the song (The march of the men of Harlech is an instance). In such cases one can sympathize with the arranger who must appear to sophisticate, and so to falsify, as soon as he adds anything which to him is of musical interest.
A similar dilemma faces the singer. If she colours the voice and varies the dynamics, she withdraws further still from the folk-song; if she doesn't, she risks monotony. Alison Pearce accepts the risk, putting her trust in clean forth-right tone and clear diction. Her pure soprano and unaffected style belong to the open air, denying themselves any suggestion of opera house or concert hall. The harp accompaniment has a natural charm too, though its spell, I find, is more immediate than enduring. This young singer has now given us three recitals of arranged folk-songs (''Songs of The Hebrides''—Hyperion A66024, 5/82 and ''Songs of Ireland''—A66023, 5/82 being her previous records); she deserves now to be heard in some other repertoire.'