The bourrée (also borrèia and, in England, borry or bore) is a dance of French origin and the words and music that accompany it. The bourrée somewhat resembles the gavotte, it is in double time and often has a dactylic rhythm but it is somewhat quicker and its phrase starts with a quarter-bar anacrusis or "pick-up" whereas a gavotte has a half-bar anacrusis.
In the Baroque era, after the Academie de Dance was established by Louis XIV in 1661, the French court adapted the bourrée, like many such dances, for the purposes of concert dance. In this way it gave its name to a ballet stepcharacteristic of the dance, a rapid movement of the feet while en pointe or demi-pointe, and so to the sequence of steps called pas de bourrée.
The bourrée became an optional movement in the classical suite of dances, and J.S. Bach, Handel and Chopin wrote bourrées, not necessarily intending them to be danced.
The bourrée originates in Auvergne of France. It is sometimes called the "French Clog Dance" or a "Branle of the Sabots". First mentioned as a popular dance in 1665 by Clermont-Ferrand, it still survives in Auvergne in the Massif Central and in the department of Ariège and is danced during bal folks in France and in other countries. The present-day dance in lower Auvergne, also called Montagnarde (Montanhardas), is in triple time while that of high Auvergne called Auvergnate (Auvernhatas) is in double time. Modern variants termed bourrées are danced as partner dances, circle dances, square dances and line dances.
Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
Me mind being bent on rambling, to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision, and I followed with a will
'Til next I came to anchor at the cross at Spancil Hill
It being on the 23rd of June, the day before the fair
When Ireland's sons and daughters and friends assembled there
The young, the old, the brave and the bold came, their duty to fulfill
At the parish church in Clooney, a mile from Spancil Hill
I went to see me neighbors, to see what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone, the young ones turning gray
But I met the tailor Quigley, he's as bold as ever still
Ah, he used to mend me britches when I lived in Spancil Hill
I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She's as white as any lily, gentle as a dove
And she threw her arms around me saying, "Johnny, I love you still"
As she's Nell the farmer's daughter and the pride of Spancil Hill
I dreamed I held and kissed her as in the days of yore
Ah Johnny, you're only jokin', as many's the time before
Then the cock, he crew in the morning, he crew both loud and shrill