Folk Song Lyrics

Of all the trades in England the beggin' is the best
For when a beggar's tired, he can lay him down and rest

	And a-beggin' I will go
	And a-beggin' I will go

I've a pocket for me oatmeal and another for me salt
I've a pair of little crutches tha should see how I can halt

There's patches on me fusty coat and a black patch on me e'e
But when it comes to tuppenny ale I can see as well as thee

Me britches they are nobbut holes but me heart is free of care
As long as I've me belly full me backside can go bare

I've been deaf at Duckinfield and I've been blind at Shaw
And many's the reet and willing lass I've bedded in the straw

There's a bed for me where'er I lie and I don't pay no rent
I've got no noisy looms to mind and I am reet content

I can rest when I am tired and I heed no master's bell
Ya mun be daft to be a king when beggars live so well

Of all the trades in England the beggin' is the best
For when a beggar's tired, he can lay him down and rest

Come all you seamen bold
and draw near, and draw near,
Come all you seamen bold and draw near.
It's of an admiral's fame,
O brave Benbow was his name,
How he fought all on the main,
you shall hear, you shall hear.

Brave Benbow he set sail
For to fight, for to fight
Brave Benbow he set sail for to fight.
Brave Benbow he set sail
with a fine and pleasant gale
But his captains they turn'd tail
in a fright, in a fright.

Says Kirby unto Wade:
"We will run, we will run"
Says Kirby unto Wade, "we will run.
For I value no disgrace,
nor the losing of my place,
But the enemy I won't face,
nor his guns, nor his guns."

The Ruby and Benbow
fought the French, fought the french
The Ruby and Benbow fought the French.
They fought them up and down,
till the blood came trickling down,
Till the blood came trickling down
where they lay, where they lay.

Brave Benbow lost his legs
by chain shot, by chain shot
Brave Benbow lost his legs by chain shot.
Brave Benbow lost his legs,
And all on his stumps he begs,
"Fight on my English lads,
'Tis our lot, 'tis our lot."

The surgeon dress'd his wounds,
Cries Benbow, cries Benbow
The surgeon dress'd his wounds, cries Benbow.
"Let a cradle now in haste,
on the quarterdeck be placed
That the enemy I may face
'Til I die, 'Til I die."

Alison Gross that lives in yon tower
The ugliest witch in the north country
Has trysted me one day up to her bower
And many fair speech she has made to me

She stroked my head and she combed my hair
She set me down softly on her knee
Saying, "If you will be my lover so true
So many good things as I will give to thee."

"Away, away, you ugly witch
Go far away and let me be
For I never will be your lover so true
And I wish I were out of your company."

Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the north country
Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the north country.

She showed me a mantle of red scarlet
With golden flowers and fringes fine
Saying, "If you will be my lover so true
This goodly gift it shall be thine."

She showed me a shirt of the finest silk
Well wrought with pearls about the band
Saying, "If you will be my lover so true
This goodly gift you shall command."

Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the north country
Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the north country

She showed me a cup of the good red gold
Well set with jewels so fair to see
Saying, "If you will be my lover so true
This goodly gift I will give to thee."

"Away, away, you ugly witch
Go far away and let me be
For I never wouldn kiss your ugly mouth
For all the gifts you could give to me."

Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the north country
Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the north country

She's turned her right and round about
And thrice she has blown on a grass-green horn
She swore by the moon and the stars of above
That she'd make me rue the day I was born

Then out she has taken a silver wand
She's turned her three times round and round
She's muttered such words till my strength it was gone
And she's turned me into an ugly worm

Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the north country
Alison Gross, she must be
The ugliest witch in the north country

A young man was walking one mid-summer morning,
Looking around him and taking the air,
When there he beheld a most beautiful damsel
Walking before him along the lane.

He walk-ed up to her and gently did ask her,
"Oh where are you going so early this morn?"
She said, "Kind Sir, I am going to Leominster,
For that is the very place where I was born."

"Shall I go with you, sweet maid?" he asked her;
"Shall I go with you along this lane?"
She turned herself round and she look-ed all on him:
And said "Yes, if you please, kind sir", she said.

They had not walked an half mile together
Before he offered to learn her a game.
He threw himself down and he pulled her down by him,
And said, "I will show you a sweet pretty game."

"You see, young man, I am not used to gaming,
But along with you I am willing to try;
And if I, by chance, should happen to beat you,
You must not think I am telling a lie."

So she cut the cards and he choosed to deal them,
Not dealing himself not the ace, but the jack;
Not knowing that she had the ace for to beat him
Which is commonly called the best trump in the pack.

She played down her ace and stole his jack off him,
Which made her cry, "High, low, jack and the game.
You see, young man, I have fairly beat you;
You dare not play the game over again."

"The game, for me, requires much effort,
And I'm in no condition to play it again;
But if you by chance should come this way tomorrow,
Then we will play the game over again."

When forty long weeks had gone and passed
A sorrowful tale this young woman could tell;
She cursed the very hour she played at All Fours
Because it made her feel very unwell.

I wish my baby it was born,
Sat smiling on its daddy's knee,
And I was in some churchyard lying
With the green grass growing all over me. 

As I was going to Banbury / Ri fol latitee O / As I was going to Banbury
I saw a fine coddlin apple tree / With a ri fol latitee O

And when the coddlins began to fall / Ri fol latitee / And when the coddlins began to fall
I found five hundred men in all / With a ri fol latitee O

And one of the men I saw was dead / Ri fol latitee O / And one of the men I saw was dead
So I sent for a hatchet to open his head / With a ri fol latitee O
 
And in his head I found a spring / Ri fol latitee O / And in his head I found a spring
And seven young salmon a learning to sing / With a ri fol latitee O

And one of the salmon as big as I / Ri fol latitee O / And one of the salmon as big as I
Now do you not think I am telling a lie? / With a ri fol latitee O

And one of the salmon as big as an elf / Ri fol latitee O / And one of the salmon as big as an elf
If you want any more you must sing it yourself / With a ri fol latitee O   

Oh, early in the evenin', just after dark, / The blackleg miners creep to work.
Wi' their moleskin trousers an' dirty shirt, / There go the backleg miners.

They take their picks an' down they go, / To dig the coal that lies below,
An' there's not a woman in this town row / Will look at a blackleg miner.

Oh, Delaval is a terrible place, / They rub wet clay in a blackleg's face.
An' round the pit-heaps they run a foot race / Wi' the dirty blackleg miners.

Now, don't go near the Seghill mine, / Across the way they stretch a line,
To catch the throat an' break the spine / O' the dirty backleg miners.

They'll take your tools an' duds as well / An' hoy them down the pit o' hell.
It's down ye go, an' fare ye well / Ye dirty blackleg miners.

So join the union while you may, / Don't wait till your dyin' day,
For that may not be far away, / Ye dirty blackleg miners.

Bold General Wolfe to his men did say,
"Come lads and follow without delay,
To yonder mountain that is so high,
Don't be down-hearted, don't be down-hearted,
For we'll gain the victory."

"There stand the French on the summit high,
While we poor souls in the valley lie.
We saw them fall like bots in the sun,
Through smoke and fire, through smoke and fire,
All from our British guns."

The first broadside that the French did give us
Did wound our General in the left breast,
Yonder he lie for he cannot stand,
"Yet fight on boldly, yet fight on boldly
While I live I'll have command."

"Here is my treasure lies all in gold,
Take it and part it for my blood runs cold,
Take it and part it brave Wolfe did say,
Ye lads of honour, ye lads of honour,
Since you have gained the day."

"When to old England you do return
Tell all my friends I am dead and gone,
And bid my mother so kind and dear
No tears to shed for me, no tears to shed for me,
For our lads did gain the day."

Now Bold Sir Rylas a-hunting went
	All along and down a lea
And Bold Sir Rylas a-hunting went
	Down by the river side
Bold Sir Rylas a-hunting went
To catch some game was his intent
	Down in the grove where the wild flowers grow
	And the green leaves fall all around

Well he spied a wild woman sitting in a tree
	All along and down a lea
"Good Lord! what brings you here," said she
	Down by the river side
"Oh there's a wild boar in the wood
He'll eat your flesh and drink your blood"
	Down in the grove where the wild flowers grow
	And the green leaves fall all around

He put his horn unto his mouth
	All along and down a lea
And he blew it East, North, West and South
	Down by the river side
The wild boar came out of his den
Bringing his children, nine or ten of them
	Down in the grove where the wild flowers grow
	And the green leaves fall all around

Then Bold Sir Rylas the wild boar fell on
	All along and down a lea
And Bold Sir Rylas the wild boar fell on
	Down by the river side
And fought him three hours all the day
Until the boar would have run away
	Down in the grove where the wild flowers grow
	And the green leaves fall all around

"Oh now you have killed my spotted pig"
	All along and down a lea
"Oh now you have killed my spotted pig"
	Down by the river side
"Oh there's three things I'd have of thee
Your horse and your hound and your fair lady"
	Down in the grove where the wild flowers grow
	And the green leaves fall all around

"Oh now I have killed your spotted pig"
	All along and down a lea
"Oh now I have killed your spotted pig"
	Down by the river side
"There's not one thing you'll have of me
My horse nor my hound nor my fair lady"
	Down in the grove where the wild flowers grow
	And the green leaves fall all around

Then Bold Sir Rylas the wild woman fell on
	All along and down a lea
And Bold Sir Rylas the wild woman fell on
	Down by the river side
And he split her head down to her chin
You should have seen her kick and grin
	Down in the grove where the wild flowers grow
	And the green leaves fall all around

I'll warrant you've never seen me lass, her name I cannot mention,
for fear you'll gan and tell her how I like her so I dee!
Well it's just for lads and lasses for to whisper their affection.
The bonniest lass in Gateshead's bonny face has bothered me.

Well the first time I saw her, well I thought I didn't know her,
but I'm sure I'd seen her face before, I couldn't think of where,
her blue eyes met mine in passing, up the High Street in the morning,
and her look was so entrancing, that me heart was mine nee mair.

Well I didn't see her for a week then one night at the Bridge End,
I stamped upon her gown, and the gathers they come away,
she told us I was clumsy and I said that I was sorry,
and I humbly begged her pardon, I was licked for what to say.

So I walked on by her side just as if I had a right to de,
the conversation first was shy but then it turned first class.
We talked about the weather and she mentioned that her father
was a puddler down at Hawks's, oh me bonny Gateshead lass.

She mentioned confidentially that her uncle was a grocer,
and her mother's father's cousin was a fiddler on the shore.
She talked so nice and pleasant and she looked both sweet and pleasant,
I thowt I'd never a seen a lass so charming like before.

She says her mother keeps a shop and sells hot pies and candy,
and her brother he's a cobbler in the high part of the town.
Now she was a dressmaker and we got on so well together,
that I blessed I'd been so awkward as to stand upon her gown.

I make her laugh and slap me lug with talking lots of nonsense.
But bless you when you're courting why there's nowt so good'll pass.
I asked her would she be me lass and I'd take her own on Sunday,
to my delight she says "I might" me bonny Gateshead lass.

Am               Fmaj7      Am             G
Cam ye o'er frae France  /  Cam ye down by Lunnon
F              Am         G
Saw ye Geordie Whelps  /  And his bonny woman
   Am             Fmaj7     Am
Oh were ye at the place  /  Ca'd the Kittle Housie
G                            E           F 
Saw ye Geordie's grace  /  A-riding on a goosie

Am             Fmaj7   Am              G
Geordie he's a man  /  There is little doubt o't
F               Am      G
He's done a' he can  /  Wha can do without it
Am                Fmaj7     Am
Down there came a blade  /  Linkin' like my lordie
G                        E              F
He wad drive a trade  /  At the loom o' Geordie

Am                     Fmaj7   Am             G
Though the claith were bad  /  Blythly may we niffer
F            Am      G
Gin we get a wab  /  It makes little differ
Am              Fmaj7     Am
We hae tint our plaid  /  Bannet, belt and swordie
G                          E            F
Ha's and mailins braid  /  But we hae a Geordie

Am              Fmaj7      Am               G
Jocky's gone to France  /  And Montgomery's lady
F                      Am        G
There they'll learn to dance  /  Madam, are ye ready
Am              Fmaj7      Am
They'll be back belyve  /  Belted brisk and lordly
G                             E               F
Brawly may they thrive  /  To dance a jig wi' Geordie

Am            Fmaj7   Am           G
Hey for Sandy Don  /  Hey for Cockolorum
F               Am       G
Hey for Bobbing John  /  And his Highland quorum
Am               Fmaj7     Am
Mony a sword and lance  /  Swings at Highland hurdie
G                              E               F
How they'll skip and dance  /  O'er the bum o' Geordie

Come write me down, ye powers above
The man that first created love,
For I've a diamond in my eye
Wherein all my joys and comforts lie,
Wherein all my joys and comforts lie.

"I will give you gold, I will give you pearl
Iif you can fancy me, dear girl,
Rich costly robes that you shall wear
If you can fancy me, my dear,
If you can fancy me, my dear."

"It's not your gold shall me entice
To leave off pleasures to be a wife
For I don't mean or intend at all
To be at any young man's call,
To be at any young man's call."

"Then go your way you scornful dame
Since you've proved false I'll prove the same
For I don't care but I shall find
Some other fair maid to my mind,
Some other fair maid to my mind."

"Oh, stay young man don't be in haste
You seem afraid your time will waste
Let reason rule your roving mind
And unto you I will prove kind,
And unto you I will prove kind."

So to Church they went that very next day
And were married by asking, as I've heard say,
So now that girl she is his wife
She will prove his comforts day and night,
She will prove his comforts day and night.

So now his trouble and sorrow is past
His joy and comfort has come at last
That girl to him always said, Nay,
She will prove his comforts night and day,
She will prove his comforts night and day.

A sailor courted of a farmer's daughter
That lived convenient in the Isle of Man;
And mark good people, what followed after,
A long time courting against his father's will.
A long time courting, and still discoursing
Of things concerning the ocean wide.
He said: "My darling, at our next meeting,
If you'll be constant, I'll make you my bride".

"But as for sailors I don't admire them,
Because they sails in so many parts.
First they love you and then they slight you,
And leave you behind with a broken heart."
"Don't you say so, my dearest jewel.
I never intended to serve you so.
I have once more to cross the ocean,
And you know, my darling, that I must go."

The news was carried unto his mother,
Before he stepped one foot on board,
That he was courting a farmer's daughter
Whose aged parents could not afford
One penny portion.  Going to the ocean
Like one distracted, his mother run.
"If you don't forsake her and your bride not make her,
I will disown you to be my son".

Oh, when his true love she heard the story,
Straight to the ocean, she then did run,
Saying in a passion, "You need not mind her.
We shall have money when they have none."
"Money or money not, you are my lot;
You have my heart and my free good will.
I won't forsake her, but my bride I'll make her;
Let my scolding mother say what she will."

On a Friday it fell in the month of Avril
O'er the hill came the morn with a blythe sunny smile
And the people were thronging the roads everywhere
Making haste to be in at Copshawholme Fair

I've seen them a-coming in from the mountains and glens
Those rosy-faced lasses and strapping young men
With a joy in their heart and unburdened o' care
A-meeting old friends at Copshawholme Fair

It's a day when old courtships are often renewed
Old disputes set aside or more hotly pursued
And what Barleycorn Johnny sees fit to declare
Is law, for he's king at Copshawholme Fair

There's lads for the lasses, there's toys for the bairns
There's jugglers and tumblers and folks with no arms
There's a balancer here and a fiddler there
There are nut-men and spice-men at Copshawholme Fair

There are peddlers and potters and gingerbread stands
There are peepshows and puff-and-darts and the green caravans
There's fruit from all nations exhibited there
With kale plants from Hawick at Copshawholme Fair

And now above all the hiring if you want to hear tell
You shall ken it as afar I've seen it myself
But what wages they adle it's ill to declare
The muckle they vary at Copshawholme Fair

Now the first I've seen hired she's a strapping young queen
He asked what her age was and where she had been
What work she'd been doing, how long she'd been there
What wages she wanted at Copshawholme Fair

Just then the bit lass stood a wee while in gloom
And she blushed and she scraped with her feet on the ground
Then she plucked up her heart and did stoutly declare,
"I'll have five pound and ten at Copshawholme Fair."

Says he, "But me lass, that's a very big wage,"
Then he turning about like he been in a rage
Says, "I'll give ye five pounds but I'll give ye nay mare
And I think that you'll tak' it at Copshawholme Fair."

The he took out a shilling for to hold the bit wench
In case it might enter her head for to flinch
But she grabbed it muttering, "I should have had mare
But I think I will tak' it at Copshawholme Fair."

Now the hiring being over away they all sprang
Into the ballroom for to join in the thrang
And "I Never Will Lie With My Mammy Nae Mair"
The fiddles play briskly at Copshawholme Fair

There's one in the corner a supping his ale
And another agen him is supping his gill
And another is skipping and swaying reet sair
"Room will ye not give me at Copshawholme Fair?"

Now this is the fashion they thus pass the day
Till the night coming on they all hurry away
And some are so sick that they'll never join mare
With the fighting and dancing at Copshawholme Fair.

Ma name's Duncan Campbell frae the shire o Argyll
A've traivelt this country for mony's the mile
A've traivelt through Irelan' an' Scotlan an' aa'
An' the name A go under's bauld Erin-go-Bragh

Ae nicht in Auld Reekie A walked doun the street
Whan a saucy big polis A chanced for tae meet
He glowert in ma face an he gied me some jaw
Sayin', "Whan cam ye owre fram Erin-go-Bragh?"

"Well, A am not a Pat though in Irelan' A've been
Nor am A a Paddy though Irelan' A've seen
But were A a Paddy, that's nothin' at aa'
For thair's mony's a bauld hero in Erin-go-Bragh."

"Well A know ye're a Pat by the cut o' yer hair
Bit ye aa' turn tae Scotsmen as sune as ye're here
Ye left yer ain countrie for brakin' the law
An we're seizin' aa' stragglers fram Erin-go-Bragh."

"An' were A a Pat an' ye knew it wis true
Or wis A the de'il, then whit's that tae you?
Were it no for the stick that ye haud in yer paw
A'd show ye a game played in Erin-go-Bragh."

An' a great lump o' blackthorn A held in ma fist
Aroun' his big bodie A made it tae twist
An' the blude fram his napper A quickly did draw
An' paid him stock-an-interest for Erin-go-Bragh.

Bit the people cam' roun' me like a flock o' wild geese
Sayin', "Catch that daft rascal he's killt the police!"
An' for every freen' A had A'm shair he had twa
It wis terrible hard times for Erin-go-Bragh

Bit A cam tae a wee boat that sails in the Forth
An' A packed up ma gear an' A steered for the North
"Fareweel tae Auld Reekie, yer polis an' aa'
An' the de'il gang wi ye," says Erin-go-Bragh.

Sae come aa ye young people, whairever ye're from
A don't give a damn tae whit place ye belang
A come fram Argyll in the Heilans sae braw
Bit A ne'er took it ill bein caad Erin-go-Bragh

Tim Finnegan lived in Walker Street / A gentleman, Irish, mighty odd;
He'd a beautiful brogue both rich and sweet / And to rise in the world he carried a hod.
     Now Tim had a sort of the tipplin' way / With a love of the whiskey he was born
     And to help him on with his work each day / He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every  morn.

          Whack fol the hurrah, take your partners / Welt the floor, your trotters shake;
          Wasn't it the truth I told you / Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake!

One mornin' Tim was feelin' full / His head was heavy which made him shake;
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull / And they carried him home his corpse to wake.
     They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet / And laid him out upon the bed,
     A gallon of whiskey at his feet / And a barrel of porter at his head.

His friends assembled at the wake / And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch,
First they brought in tay and cake / Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.
     Biddy O'Brien began to bawl / "Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
     O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?" / "Arragh, hold your gob" said Paddy McGhee!

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job / "O Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy she gave her a belt in the gob / And left her sprawlin' on the floor.
     Each side in war did soon engage / 'Twas woman to woman and man to man,
     Shillelagh law was all the rage / And a row and a ruction soon began.

Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head / When a noggin of whiskey flew at him,
It missed, and falling on the bed / The liquor scattered over Tim!
     Bedad he revives! See how he raises! / Tim Finnegan rising from the bed,
     Crying while he ran around like blazes / "Thanum an Dhul! Do you thunk I'm dead?"

In nineteen hundred twenty-four
Found myself in Liverpool on the floor
So I went to the Cunard office door
Got a job on the Mauretania
	Oh, firing the Mauretania
	She surely is a slaver
	To Hell with the Mauretania

The Mauretania's stokehold’s a wonderful sight
Sixty-four fires a-burning bright
But you'll shovel coal from morning to night
A-firing the Mauretania

The coal was so hard and full of slate
And that's what got to the four-to-eight
It very soon wearied the four-to-eight
A-firing the Mauretania

The eight-to-twelve were much better men
But they were weary by half past ten
So tired and weary by half past ten
A-firing the Mauretania

The fan's on the bum and fire won't draw
And that's what got to the twelve-to-four
It very soon buggered the twelve-to-four
A-firing the Mauretania

So come all you stokers, listen to me
The Mauretania spells purgatory
Stick to the coast, don't go deep sea
A-firing the Mauretania

It is of good ale to you I'll sing
And to good ale I'll always cling,
I like my mug filled to the brim
And I'll drink all you'd like to bring,
	O, good ale, thou art my darling,
	Thou art my joy both night and morning.

It is you that helps me with my work
And from a task I'll never shirk
While I can get a good home-brew,
And better than one pint I like two
	O, good ale, etc.

I love you in the early morn
I love you in daylight dark or dawn,
And when I'm weary, worn or spent
I turn the tap and ease the vent,
	O, good ale, etc.

It's you that makes my friends my foes,
It's you that makes me wear old clothes,
But since you come so near my nose
It's up you comes and down you goes,
	O, good ale, etc.

If all my friends from Adam's race
Were to meet me here all in this place,
I could part from all without one tear
Before I'd part from my good beer,
	O, good ale, etc.

And if my wife did me despise
How soon I'd give her two black eyes,
But if she loved me like I love thee
What a happy couple we should be,
	O, good ale, etc.

You have caused me debts and I've often swore
That I never would drink strong ale no more,
But you for all that I forgive
And I'll drink strong ale just as long as I live,
	O, good ale, etc.

It's of a jolly sailor boy / Who ploughed the radiant main
Who's lately had a pleasant voyage / But now he's on shore
He called at an alehouse / Where he used to resort
In the ragged apparel  / Of one who is poor

He told them his money / It was growing short
He told them his money / It was growing short
He asked them to trust him / The answer was "Nay,
Friend, if you've no money, / You must call another day.

Now John being worried / He hung down his head,
He asked for a candle / To light him up to bed.
"Our beds are all full, John, / And have been this week,
so now for fresh lodgings / You must go and seek."

"Oh, what is your reckoning, / Since you have been so bold?
Oh, what is your reckoning, / Since you have been so bold?"
"It's four and twenty shillings, John, / You've owed to me from old."
And with that he pulled out / Two hands full of gold.

The sight of that money / Made the old landlady rue,
The sight of that money / Made the old landlady rue,
My daughter is not busy, John, / She can come down to you,
Or else I will trust you / With a pot or two.

Down came her daughter / Dressed all in her best
"The words that were spoken, John, / Were only in jest."
She kissed him and cuddled him / And called him her Dear.
"The green bed is ready, John, / You can lie there."

"Before I would lie there / I would lie in the street
And now for fresh lodgings / I will go and seek,
For if I'd no money / Out of door I'd be turned,
So you and your mother / Deserve to be burned."

So come all you young sailor boys / Who plough the radiant main,
Who work for your money through / The cold wind and rain,
If you have any money / I pray you, lay it up in store,
It will be your good companion / When you're turned out of door.

When I was a little lad
My mother always told me,
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away Joe,
That if I did not kiss the girls
My lips would grow all mouldy,
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away Joe.

    Way, haul away, we'll haul away together,
      Way, haul away, we'll haul away Joe.
    Way, haul away, we'll haul for better weather,
      Way, haul away, we'll haul away Joe.

Georgie Charlton had a pig
And it was double jointed,
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe
He took it to the blacksmith's shop
To get its trotters pointed.
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.

King Louis was the King of France
Before the Revolution,
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away Joe,
King Louis got his head cut off
Which spoiled his constitution.
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away Joe.

Oh, once I had an Irish girl,
And she was fat and lazy.
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
Then I had a Spanish girl,
She nearly drove me crazy.
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.

Then I married an English girl,
But she was far from civil,
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
I clapped a plaster on her mouth
And sent her to the divil,
  Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.

It was of an honest labourer as I've heard people say
He goes out in the morning and he works hard all the day,
And he's got seven childeren and most of them are small.
He has nothing but hard labour to maintain them all.

A gentleman one evening walking out to take the air
He met with this poor labouring man and solemnly declared,
"I think you are that thresher-man."  "Yes, sir," said he, "that's true."
"How do you get your living as well as you do?"

"Sometimes I do reap and sometimes I do mow
At other times to hedging and to ditching I do go.
There is nothing comes amiss to me from the harrow to the plough.
That's how I get my living by the sweat of my brow."

"When I go home at night just as tired as I be
I take my youngest child and I dance him on my knee.
They others they come around me with their prittle-prattling toys
And that's the only comfort a working man enjoys."

"My wife and I are willing and we join both in one yoke
We live just like two turtle doves and not one word provoke.
Although the times are very hard and we are very poor
We can scarcely keep the raving wolf away from the door."

"Well done, you honest labourer, you speak well of your wife,
I hope you will live happy all the days of your life.
Here is forty acres of good land which I will give to thee
Which will help you to maintain your wife and little family."

In Horkstow Grange there lived an old miser,
You all do know him as I've heard say.
It's him and his man that was named John Bowlin
They fell out one market day

	Pity them what see him suffer,
	Pity poor old Steeleye Span;
	John Bowlin's deeds they will be remembered,
	Bowlin's deeds at Horkstow Grange.

With a blackthorn stick old Steeleye struck him,
As oftens had threatened him before;
John Bowlin turned round all in a passion,
And knocked old Steeleye onto the floor.

Old Steeleye Span he was felled by John Bowlin
It happened to be on a market day;
Old Steeleye swore with all his vengeance,
He would swear his life away.

Jack Crawford was a Sunderland man / He worked on board a keel
Up and down Wear Valley / He knew the river weel
But then he joined the Navy / Amongst the cannon's blast
And there became the hero / Who nailed his colours to the mast

    Nailed his colours to the mast / Nailed his colours to the mast
    And there became the hero / Who nailed his colours to the mast

Jack sailed aboard the 'Venerable' / The flagship of the fleet
They sailed into the Channel / The Hollanders to meet
The battle was at Camperdown / And shot flew thick and fast
And that's where Jack Crawford / Nailed his colours to the mast

Six times the flag was shot away / As the chain shot flew like hail
Till the mast top fell to the deck / And the fleet begun to fail
Jack Crawford picked up the flag / And nimble to the last
Climbed atop the main and / Nailed his colours to the mast

Oh what a cheer was heard that day / And the English Tars fought back
The Dutch were torn asunder / And the cry went up for Jack
Admiral Duncan stepped up to him / Saying  "We've won the day at last
For Jack Crawford the hero / Nailed his colours to the mast"

Now Jack was called to London / Sent for by the King
He says  "Jack you're a hero" / And the crowd began to sing
"Here's a pension thirty pound a year / For you fought them to the last
Raise a cheer for Jack Crawford / Who nailed his colours to the mast"

So if you go to Sunderland / Leave the streets and crowd
See the statue of him there / That stands up se proud
In the Mowbray Park / Pause as you go past
And Remember brave Jack Crawford / Who nailed his colours to the mast

One Sunday mornin' Lambton went / A-fishing in the Wear;
An' catched a fish upon he's heuk / He thowt leuk't vary queer.
But whatt'n a kind ov fish it was / Young Lambton cudden't tell-
He waddna' fash te carry it hyem, / So he hoyed it doon a well

    Whisht! lads, haad yor gobs, / An' aa'll tell ye aall an aaful story,
    Whisht! lads, haad yor gobs, / An' Aa'll tel ye 'boot the worm.

Noo Lambton felt inclined te gan / An' fight i' foreign wars.
He joined a troop ov Knights that cared / For nowther woonds nor scars,
An' off he went te Palestine / Where queer things him befel,
An varry seun forgat aboot / The queer worm i' the well.

But the worm got fat an' growed an' growed, / An' growed an aaful size;
He'd greet big teeth, a greet big gob, / An greet big goggle eyes.
An' when at neets he craaled aboot / Te pick up bits o' news,
If he felt dry upon the road, / He milked a dozen coos.

This feorful worm would often feed / On caalves an' lambs an' sheep,
An' swally little bairns alive / When they laid doon te sleep.
An when he'd eaten aall he cud / An' he had had he's fill,
He craaled away an' lapped he's tail / Ten times roond Pensher Hill.

The news ov this myest aaful worm / An' his queer gannins on
Seun crossed the seas, gat te the ears / Ov brave an' bowld Sor John.
So hyem he cam an' catched the beast / An' cut 'im in twe haalves,
An' that seun stopped hes eatin' bairns / An' sheep an' lambs an' caalves.

So noo ye knaa hoo aall the foaks / On byeth sides ov the Wear
Lost lots o' sheep an' lots o' sleep / An leeved i' mortal feor.
So let's hev one te brave Sor John / That kept the bairns frae harm,
Saved coos an' calves by myekin' haalves / O' the famis Lambton Worm.

    Noo lads, aa'll haad me gob, / That's aal aa knaa aboot the story,
    Of Sor John's clivvor job / Wi' the famis Lambton Worm.

Lord Bateman was a noble lord / A noble lord of high degree
He shipped himself all aboard a great ship / Some foreign country to go and see

He sailed East, he sailed West, / He sailed unto proud Turkey.
Here he was taken and put in prison, / Until his life became quite weary.

Now in this prison there grew a tree / It grew both stout, it grew both strong,
Where he was chain-ed all around the middle / Until his life it was almost gone.

The Turk he had one only daughter, / The fairest creature ever you'd see.
She stole the keys to her father's prison, / And swore Lord Bateman she would set free.

She took him to her father's cellar / And gave to him the best of wine.
And ev'ry health that she drank unto him was: / "I wish, Lord Bateman, that you were mine."

"For seven long years we'll make a vow, / For sev'n long years we'll keep it strong;
If you will wed with no other woman, / Then I will wed no other man."

She took him to her father's harbour, / She gave to him a ship of fame:
"Farewell, farewell to you, Lord Bateman, / I fear I never shall see you again."

Now seven long years are gone and past / And fourteen days, well known to me;
She packed up all her gay clothing, / And swore Lord Bateman she'd go and see.

And when she came to Lord Bateman's castle, / How boldly she did ring the bell.
"Who's there? Who's there?" cried the young proud porter, / "Who's there, who's there, come quickly tell."

"O, is this called Lord Bateman's castle? / And is his lordship here within?"
"O yes! O yes!" cried the young proud porter / "He has just now taken his young bride in."

"Tell him to send me a slice of bread / And a bottle of the best of wine
And not forgetting that fair young lady, / That did release him when close confined."

Away, away ran the young proud porter, / Away, away, away ran he,
Until he came to Lord Bateman's chamber, / Where he fell down on bended knee.

"What news, what news, my young proud porter? / What news, what news hast thou brought to me?"
"There is the fairest of all young ladies / That ever my two eyes did see."

"On every finger she has a ring / On one of them she does have three
And a chain of gold all around her middle / As would set all Northumberland free."

"She bids you send her a slice of bread, / And a bottle of the best of wine;
And not forgetting that fair young lady, / That did release you when close confined."

Lord Bateman then in a passion flew; / he broke his sword in splinters three;
"Half will I give of my father's portion / If but Sophia have a-crossed the sea."

O then up spoke the young bride's mother, / Who was never heard to speak so free:
"You'll not forget my only daughter / If but Sophia have a-crossed the sea."

"I own I made a bride of your daughter; / She's neither the better nor worse for me.
She came to me on a horse and saddle; / She may go back in a coach and three."

Lord Bateman then prepared another marriage, / And both their hearts were full of glee.
"I will range no more to a foreign country / Now since Sophia have a-crossed the sea."

My name is McShane from the plains of Kildaire
A farmer I was till the last year
Till I took a notion of higher promotion
And went over to England the harvest to share

    Rum tooralah, run tooraladdy
    Rum tooralah musha rum tooralay

I paddled with Molly so blythe and so jolly
Kicked up a stink for a staff in my hand
And to keep myself cheery for fear I got weary
I sang Paddy Wack as I went on my way

I landed at Dumbarton on a fine summer's evening
My bundle and staff I held them in my hand
There were some of them laughing and some of them chaffing
More of them trying to stick Paddy away

I went into a woman to ask her for lodgings
She said, "My young man now don't look so dull
For I will tell you where you will get lodgings
With the woman that lives next door to the black bull."

Oh I went to this woman and asked her for lodgings
She instantly showed me to a bed in the room
And I being tired and worn out from walking
I threw myself down on my bed in the room

But the Lum Bob a tinker lay up in the corner
He swore 'pon his soul sure he'd kill all was there
Says I, "My bold tinker give over your bragging
I'm bold McShane from the plains of Kildaire."

But he tried for to hit me a punch in the stomach
I instantly fetched him a one in the throat
And he tumbled his head over heels in the corner
Cut all his head on an old whisky pot

He lay on the floor like a sheep he was bleeding
I swore 'pon my soul sure I'd cut off his life
But I lifted him up and sent down for a noggin
Me and this tinker we ended this strife

One Friday morn as we'd set sail, / And our ship not far from land,
We there did espy a fair pretty maid,
With a comb and a glass in her hand, her hand, her hand,
With a comb and a glass in her hand.

    While the raging seas did roar,
    And the stormy winds did blow,
    And we jolly sailor-boys were up, were up aloft,
    And the landlubbers lying down below, below, below,
    And the landlubbers lying down below.

Then up spoke the captain of our gallant ship, / Who at once our peril did see:
"I have married a wife in fair London town,
But tonight she a widow will be will be will be
But tonight she a widow will be."

Oh then up spoke our little cabin boy / And a fair-haired boy was he:
"I've a father and mother in fair Portsmouth Town
And this night they will weep for me for me for me
And this night they will weep for me."

Then up spoke cook of our gallant ship / And a greasy old cook was he,
I care more for my cooking pots and pans
Than I do for the raging of the sea, the sea, the sea,
Than I do for the raging of the sea.

Then three times round went our gallant ship; / And three times round turned she,
And for want of a longboat we all were drowned
As we sank to the bottom of the sea the sea the sea
As we sank to the bottom of the sea."

One misty moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather,
I met with an old man a-cloth-ed all in leather,
He was cloth-ed all in leather with a cap beneath his chin, saying:
	"How d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again?"

This rustic was a thresher as on his way he hide
And with a leather bottle fast buckled by his side
He wore no shirt upon his back with wool unto his skin, singing:
	"How d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again?"

I went a little further and there I met a maid
A-going a-milking, a-milking, sir, she said
Then I began to compliment and she began to sing, saying:
	"How d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again?"

This maid, her name was Dolly, clothed in a gown of grey
I being somewhat jolly, persuaded her to stay
And straight I fell a-courting her in hopes her love to win, saying:
	"How d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again?"

I having time and leisure, I spent a vacant hour
A-telling of my treasure while sitting in the bower
With many kind embraces I stroked her double chin, saying:
	"How d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again?"

I said that I would married be and she would be my bride
And along we should not tarry in twenty things beside
I'll plough and sow and reap and mow and you shall sit and spin, saying:
	"How d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again?"

Her parents then consented, all parties were agreed
Her portion thirty shillings, we married were with speed
Then Will, the piper, he did play, while others dance and sing, saying:
	"How d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again?"

Then lusty rovin' robin with many damsels gay
Did ride on roan and Dobbin to celebrate the day
And when they met together, their caps they off did fling, saying:
	"How d' you do and how d' you do and how d' you do again?"

As I was out walking one evening last May
A charming young damsel I met on my way
She had jewellery and riches she had diamonds and gold
And she said she was a virgin only nineteen years old

I quickly fell in love with this beautiful dame
I asked her where she came from and she told me the same
In three weeks we were married and the church bells they tolled
I was married to a virgin only nineteen years old

On awaking next morning I thought I would faint
When she scraped from her two cheeks a full pound of paint
And on her left shoulder such padding I behold
Says I "Sure you're a daisy only nineteen years old"

She pulled off her fingers 'til she left only three
She screwed off her right leg right over the knee
She pulled off her false wig her bald head I behold
Oh good God Almighty only nineteen years old

She pulled out her eyebrows so black and sublime
She pulled out her flase teeth there were only nine
She pulled out her glass eye on the carpet it rolled
Bad luck and damnation to your nineteen years old

And all you young fellows who to marriage you go
Examine your true love from the top to the toe
And if you don't do that I fear you'll be sold
To a damsel not nineteen but ninety years old

Here's fourteen shillings on the drum,
For those who'll Volunteers to come,
To list and fight the foe today
Over the hills and far away.

	O'er the hills and o'er the main,
	To Flanders, Portugal and Spain,
	Queen Ann commands, and we'll obey,
	Over the hills and far away.

Through smoke and fire and shot and shell
Unto the very walls of hell
We shall stand and we shall stay
Over the hills and far away

When evil stalks upon the land
I'll nyther hold nor stay me' hand
But fight to win a better day
Over the hills and far away

So fall in lads behind the drum
With Colours blazing like the sun
Along the road to come-what-may
Over the hills and far away

Now though I travel far from Spain
A part of me shall still remain
For you are with me night and day
Over the hills and far away

If I should fall to rise no more
As many comrades did before
Ask the pipes and drums to play
Over the hills and far away

Let Kings and tyrants come and go
I'll stand ajudged by what I know
A soldier's life I'll ne'er gainsay
Over the hills and far away

'Twas in the pleasant month of May in the springtime of the year.
And down by yonder meadow there runs a river clear,
See how the little fishes how they do sport and play
Causing many a lad and many a lass to go there a-making hay.

Then in comes the scytheman that meadow to mow down,
With his old leathered bottle and the ale that runs so brown.
There's many a stout and labouring man comes here his skill to try.
He works, he mows, he sweats and blows and the grass cuts very dry.

Then in comes both Tom and Dick with their pitch-forks and their rakes
And likewise black-eyed Susan the hay all for to make.
There's a sweet, sweet, sweet and a jug, jug, jug, how the harmless birds did sing,
From the morning till the evening as we were a-haymaking.

It was just at one evening as the sun was a-going down,
We saw the jolly piper come a-strolling through the town.
There he pulled out his tapering pipes and he made the valley ring,
So we all put down our rakes and forks and left off haymaking.

We call-ed for a dance and we tripp-ed it along.
We danced all round the haycocks till the rising of the sun.
When the sun did shine such a glorious light and the harmless birds did sing,
Each lad he took his lass in hand and went hack to his haymaking.

Come all you jolly ploughboys, come listen to my lays,
And join with me in chorus, I'll sing the ploughboy's praise;
My song is of the ploughboy's fame, and unto you I'll relate the same
He whistles, sings and drives his team, the brave ploughing boy.

So early in the morning, the ploughboy he is seen;
He hastens to the stable, his horses for to clean.
Their manes and tails he will comb straight, with chaff and corn he does them bait,
Then he'll endeavour to plough straight, the brave poughing boy.

So early in the morning, to harrow, plough and sow
And with a gentle cast, my boys, we'll give the corn a throw
Which makes the valleys thick to stand with corn to fill the reaper's hand:
All this, you well may understand, does the brave ploughing boy.

The corn is now a-growing, and seed time it is o'er
Our master he does welcome us and ope's the cellar door
With cake and ale we have our fill, because we've done our work so well,
There's none here can excel the skill of the brave ploughing boy.

Now the corn it is a-growing, the fields look fresh and gay
The cheerful lads come in to mow, whilst damsels make the hay;
The ears of corn do now appear, and peace and plenty crown the year
So we'll be merry and drink whilst here to the brave ploughing boy.

Moan low, wild wave / Drown not the seal's sad song.
Brown eyes love crave / Seal-kith and kin among.

Storm fiend, give place, / White babies helpless lie.
Great God, in grace / Hear the seal-mother's cry.

Storm-born, their babies / See first the winter sun.
Give them sweet life / Until their day be done.

Land-born, sea-reared, / Strengthen their baby fins.
Lone lands, scenes weird, / Save from the hunter's sins.

Dark rock, blue sea, / A share of teeming fish.
Wide sky, life free: / These are the seal's deep wish.

Round heads, sleek necks, / contented just to be.
God-made, why vex / These wonders of the sea?

Shepherds arise, be not afraid,
With hasty steps prepare
To David's city, see the maid,
With her blest Infant (with her blest Infant) there,
With her blest Infant there, with her blest Infant there.

	Sing, sing, all earth,
	Sing, sing, all earth eternal praises sing
	To our Redeemer,
	To our Redeemer and our heavenly King.

Laid in a manger view the Child,
Humility Divine,
Sweet innocence, how meek and mild.
Grace in his features (grace in his features) shine,
Grace in his features shine, grace in his features shine.

For us the Saviour came on earth,
For us his life he gave,
To save us from eternal death
And raise us from (and to raise us from) the grave
And raise us from the grave and raise us from the grave

To Jesus Christ, our glorious King,
Be endless praises given!
Let all the earth His mercies sing,
Who made our peace (who made our peace) with heaven.
Who made our peace with heaven, who made our peace with heaven.

Mae bys Mari Ann wedi brifo, / A Dafydd y gwas ddim yn iach;
Mae'r Baban yn y crud yn crio, / A'r gath wedi scrapo Joni bach
    Sospan fach yn berwi ar y tân / Sosban fawr yn berwi ar y llawr
    A'r gath wedi scrapo Joni bach.
    Dai bach yn sowldiwr, Dai bach yn sowldiwr,
    Dai bach yn sowldiwr, A chwt i grys e' mas.

Mae bys Mari Ann wedi gwella, / A Dafydd y gwas yn ei fedd;
Mae'r baban yn y crud wedi tyfu, / A'r gath wedi huno mewn hedd.
    Sospan fach yn berwi ar y tân / Sosban fawr yn berwi ar y llawr
    A'r gath wedi huno mewn hedd.
    Dai bach yn sowldiwr, Dai bach yn sowldiwr,
    Dai bach yn sowldiwr, A chwt i grys e' mas

Farewell and adieu unto you Spanish ladies,
Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain;
For it's we've received orders for to sail for old England,
But we hope very soon we shall see you again.

    We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
    We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas,
    Until we strike soundings in the Channel of old England,
    From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues.

Then we hove our ship to the wind at sou'-west, my boys,
We hove our ship to our soundings for to see;
So we rounded and sounded, and got forty-five fathoms,
We squared our main yard, up channel steered we.

Now the first land we made it is called the Deadman,
Then Ram Head off Plymouth, Start, Portland and Wight;
We sailed by Beachy, by Fairlee and Dungeness,
Until we came abreast of the South Foreland Light.

Then the signal was made for the grand fleet for to anchor,
All in the downs that night for to meet;
Then it's stand by your stoppers, see clear your shank-painters,
Haul all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets.

Now let every man drink up a full bumper,
And let every man drink up a full bowl;
We'll drink and be merry and drown melancholy,
Singing, here's a good health to each true-hearted soul.

These words were compos-ed by Spencer the Rover
who travelled through England and most parts of Wales
He had been so reduc-ed, which caused great confusion
And that was the reason he went on the roam

In Yorkshire, near Rotherham, he had been on his rambles
Being weary of travelling, he sat down to rest
At the foot of yonder mountain there flows a clear fountain
With bread and cold water he himself did refresh

It tasted more sweeter than the gold he had wasted
More sweeter than honey and gave more content
But the thoughts of his babies lamenting and crying
Brought tears to his eyes which made him relent

The night fast approaching, to the woods he resorted
With woodbine and ivy his bed for to make
There he dreamt about sighing, lamenting and crying
"Go home to your fam'ly and wandering forsake"

On the fifth of November, as I clearly remember
When first he arrived home to his fam'ly and wife
They stood so surpris-ed, when first he arriv-ed
To see such a stranger once more in their sight

His children came around him with their prittle prattling stories
With their prittle prattling stories to drive care away
Now they are united like birds of one feather
Like bees in one hive contented they'll stay

So now he is living in his cottage contented
With woodbine and roses growing all around the door
He's as happy as those that's got thousands of riches
Contented he'll stay and go a-rambling no more.

Sportsmen arouse the morning is clear, / The larks are singing all in the air. (Repeat)
Go and tell your sweet lover the hounds are out, (Repeat)
Saddle your horses, your saddles prepare, / We'll away to some cover to seek for a hare.

We searched the woods and the groves all round, / The trial being over the game it is found, (Repeat)
Then off she springs through brake she flies, (Repeat)
Follow, follow the musical horn, / Sing follow, hark, forward the innocent hare.

Our huntsman blows his joyful sound, / Tally ho, my boys, all over the downs. (Repeat)
From the woods to the valleys see how she creeps, (Repeat)
Follow, follow the musical horn, / Sing follow, hark, forward the innocent hare.

All along the green turf she pants for breath / Our huntsman he shouts out for death. (Repeat)
Relope, relope, retiring hare. (Repeat)
Follow, follow the musical horn / Sing follow, hark forward the innocent hare.

This hare has led us a noble run / Success to sportsmen every one, (Repeat)
Such a chase she has led us, four hours or more, (Repeat)
Wine and beer we'll drink without fear, / We'll drink a success to the innocent hare.

Sweep Chimneye sweep is the common cry I keep,
If you can but rightly understand me.         (repeat)
With my brush, broom and my rake, with my brush, broom and my rake,
See what cleanly work I make,
With my hoe, hoe, hoe, with my hoe,
And it's sweep, chimneye sweep for me.

Girls came unto the door I look as black as any Moor,
I'm as constant and true as the day                  (repeat)
Although my face is black, although my face is black,
I can give as good a smack,
And there's no one, no one, no one, and there's no one,
And there's no one shall call me on hire.

Arise, Girls, arise, wipe the sleep from your eyes,
Go and fetch me some beer that I might swallow     (repeat)
I can climb up to the top, I can climb up to the top,
Without a ladder or a rope,
And it's there, there, there, and it's there,
And it's there you will hear me halloa.

Now here I do stand with my hoe all in my hand
Like a soldier that's on the sentery          (repeat)
I will work for a better sort, I will work for a better sort
And I'll kindly thank them for it.
I will work, work, work and I'll work
And I'll work for none but gentery.

The time passes over more cheerful and gay,
Since we've learnt a new act to drive sorrows away.
Sorrows away, sorrows away, sorrows away,
Since we've learnt a new act to drive sorrows away.

Bright Phoebe awakes so high up in the sky
With her red, rosy cheeks and her sparkaling eye,
Sparkaling eye, sparkaling eye, sparkaling eye,
With her red, rosy cheeks and her sparkaling eye.

If you ask for my credit you'll find I have none,
With my bottle and friend you will find me at home.
Find me at home, find me at home, find me at home,
With my bottle and friend you will find me at home.

Although I'm not rich and although I'm not poor
I'm as happy as those that's got thousands or more,
Thousands or more, thousands or more, thousands or more,
I'm as happy as those that's got thousands or more.

Through the groves as I was a-wand'ring / Out one summer's evening clear,
But who should I spy but a fair young damsel / Lamenting for her shepherd dear.

I boldly stepped up unto her / And she blushed as I drew near;
I says, "Fair maid, what is your trouble, / Or what makes you so lamenting here?"

She says, "Young man, if you will believe me, / My trouble is more than I can bear;
For my true love is gone, is gone and left me, / Across the seas I know not where."

"Who is my shepherd I love so dearly, / How can I love him any more?
For he's gone, he's gone, he's gone and left me. / I never shall see him again, I fear."

'Twas down in yonder flowery garden, / Where the river runs so bright and clear.
That her cheeks were like two blooming roses / Upon the tree that bloom and  bear.

1 As | I was walking | all alone,
  Bet|ween a water | and a wa',
  And | there I spy’d a | wee wee man,
  And | he was the least that | e'er I saw.

2 His | legs were scarce a | shathmont’s length,
  And | thick and thimber | was his thigh;
  Bet|ween his brows there | was a span,
  And bet|ween his shoulders | there was three.

	His beard was long and white as a swan
	His robe was neither green nor grey
	He clapped his hands, down came the mist
	And he sank and he sainted clean away.

3 | He took up a | meikle stane,
  And-he | flang’t as far as | I could see;
  Though | I had been a | Wallace wight,
  I | couldna liften’t | to my knee.

4 ‘O | wee wee man, but | thou be strang!
  O | tell me where thy | dwelling be?’
  ‘My | dwelling’s down at-yon | bonny bower;
  O | will you go with | me and see?’

	His beard was long . . .

5 | On we lap, and | awa we rade,
  | Till we came to-yon | bonny green;
  We | lighted down for to | bait our horse,
  And | out there came a | lady fine.

6 | Four and twenty | at her back,The Wee Wee Man
  And | they were a’ clad | out in green;
  Though-the | King of Scotland | had been there,
  The | warst o' them might-hae | been his queen.

	His beard was long . . .

7 | On we lap, and | awa we rade,
  | Till we came to yon | bonny ha',
  Where-the | roof was o' the | beaten gould,
  And-the | floor was o' the | cristal a’.

8 | When we came to the | stair-foot,
  | Ladies were dancing, | jimp and sma',
  But | in the twinkling | of an eye,
  My | wee wee man was | clean awa'.

	His beard was long . . .

There were three gypsies a come to my door,
And downstairs ran this lady, O!
One sang high and another sang low,
And the other sang bonny, bonny, Biscay, O!

Then she pulled off her silk finished gown
And put on hose of leather, O!
The ragged, ragged, rags about our door,
She's gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

It was late last night, when my lord came home,
Enquiring for his a-lady, O!
The servants said, on every hand,
She's gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

O saddle to me my milk-white steed,
Go and fetch me my pony, O!
That I may ride and seek my bride,
Who is gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

O he rode high and he rode low,
He rode through woods and copses too,
Until he came to an open field,
And there he espied his a-lady, O!

What makes you leave your house and land?
What makes you leave your money, O?
What makes you leave your new wedded lord?
To go with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

What care I for my house and my land?
What care I for my money, O?
What care I for my new wedded lord?
I'm off with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

Last night you slept on a goose-feather bed,
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
And to-night you'll sleep in a cold open field,
Along with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

What care I for a goose-feather bed?
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
For to-night I shall sleep in a cold open field,
Along with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

It happened on one evening late, / As the maid was going to bed,
She heard a sound, a beautiful sound, / That made her heart feel glad.

She thought it was her brother John, / Returning from the cane;
But who should it be but Lord Henry, / Just from his wild hunting.

"Get down, get down, Lord Henery, / And stay all night with me;
For the very best lodging in Mulveren Town, / The best I'll give to thee."

"I won't get down, I shan't get down, / To stay all night with you;
For there's a prettier girl in the merry green lands, / That I love much better than you."

As he leaned o'er his milk-white steed / And kisses gave her three,
She held up a knife in her right hand / And pierced him heartily.

"O live, O live, Lord Henery, / Half an hour or more;
For the very best doctors in Mulveren Town, / You'll soon be in their care."

"O live, O live, how can I live, / How can I live you see,
When l can feel my own heart's blood, / Come trinkling o'er my knee?"

She called her waiting maids unto her / To view his body so fair,
Saying, "Of all this finery you see around here, / The finest you shall wear."

Some took him by his curly locks, / Some by his hands and feet,
And threw him in the cold, dark well, / Which was both cold and deep

"Lie there, lie there, Lord Henery, / Till the flesh rots off your bones!
That prettier girl in the merry green lands, / Shall mourn for your return."

There was a pretty parrot bird, / Sitting high upon a limb,
Saying, "You murdered Lord Henry, / And in the well threw him."

"Come down, come down, my pretty parrot bird, / And sit on my right knee;
Your cage shall be the finest gold, / And the door of ivory."

"I won't come down, I shan't come down, / To sit on your right knee;
For you have murdered Lord Henry, / And soon you'd murder me"

"I wish I had my bended bow, / My arrow and my string;
I'd pierce a dart so close your heart, / Those notes no more you'd sing."

"O if you had your bended bow, / Your arrow and your string,
I'd take my flight to the merry green lands / And tell what I'd seen."