Chapter V: Part 5

And thought to have liv'd a sober life,

But as it fell out I had better been dead,

Then mark the time that I was wed.

On Tuesday morn to my surprise,

A little before the sun did rise,

She tun'd up her clapper, and scolded more,

Than ever I heard in my life before.

On Wednesday morn I went to the wood,

I thought in my heart she'd never be good,

I cut me a twig of the holly green,

I think 'twas the toughest ever seen,

I brought it home, and laid it by.

On Thursday I went the same to try,

And if she would no better be,

The devil might take her to-morrow, for me.

On Friday morn, to my surprise,

A little before the sun did rise,

She tun'd up her clapper in a scolding tune,

And now you shall hear we parted soon.

On Saturday morn, as I may say,

As she, on her pillow, consulting lay;

The devil came in the midst of the game,

And took her away both blind and lame.

On Sunday, friends, I can dine without

A scolding wife, or a brawling out,

Enjoying my bottle, and my best friend,

And is not this a noble week's-work end.

FARMER'S BOY

|The sun went down beyond yon hills,

Across yon dreary-moor,

Weary and lame, a boy there came,

Up to a farmer's door.

"Will you tell me if any there be

That will give me employ

To plough and sow, and reap and mow,

And be a farmer's boy?

"My fathers dead, and mothers left,

With her five children small,

And what is worst for mother still,

I'm the oldest of them all:

Though little I be yet I fear not work,

If you will me employ

To plough and sow, and reap and mow,

And be a farmer's boy.

"And if that you won't me employ,

One favour I have to ask,

Will you shelter me till break of day,

From this cold winter's blast:

At break of day, I'll trudge away,

Elsewhere to seek employ

To plough and sow, and reap and mow,

And be a farmer's boy."

The mistress said, "Pray take the lad,

No farther let him seek;"

"O yes, dear father," the daughter cried,

While tears ran down her cheeks,

"For those that will work it's hard to want,

And wander for employ

To plough and sow, and reap and mow,

And be a farmer's boy."

In course of time he grew a man

The good old farmer died,

And left the boy the farm he had,

And his daughter for his bride;

The boy that was the farm now has,

Oft smiles and thinks with joy,

Of the lucky day he came that way,

And to be a farmer's boy.

TOMMY LINN

|_Tommy Linn_ is a _Scotchman_ born,

His head is bald, and his beard is shorn,

He has a cap made of a hare skin,

An elderman is _Tommy Linn,_

_Tommy Linn_ has no boots to put on,

But two calves' skins, and the hair it was on,

They are open at the side and the water goes in,

"Unwholesome boots," says _Tommy Linn_.

_Tommy Linn_ has a mare of the gray,

Lam'd of all four as I hear say;

It has the farcy all over the skin,

"It's a running jade," says _Tommy Linn._

_Tommy Linn_ no bridle had to put on,

But two mouses' tails that he put on;

_Tommy Linn_ had no saddle to put on,

But two urchin skins, and them he put on.

_Tommy Linn_ went to yonder hall,

Went hipping and skipping among them all;

They ask'd what made him come so boldly in,

"I'm come a wooing," says _Tommy Linn_.

_Tommy Linn_ went to the church to be wed,

The bride followed after hanging down her head,

She hung down her cheeks, she hung down her chin,

"This is a glooming quean," says _Tommy Linn_.

_Tommy Linn's_ daughter sat on the stairs,

"Oh, dear father, gin I be not fair;"

The stairs they broke, and she fell in,

"You are fair enough now," says Tommy Linn.

(_quean_, lass.)

_Tommy Linn's_ daughter sat on the brig,

"Oh, dear father, gin I be not trig;"

The bridge it broke, and she fell in,

"You are trig enough now," says _Tommy Linn._

_Tommy Linn_, and his wife and his wife's mother,

They all fell into the fire together;

They that lay undermost got a hot skin,

"We are [hot] enough," says _Tommy Linn_.

(_trig_, neat.)

THE MERMAID

|On Friday morning as we set sail,

It was not far from land,

O there I espied a fair pretty maid,

With a comb and a glass in her hand.

O the raging seas did roar,

And the stormy winds did blow,

While we poor sailors were up into the top,

And the land lubbers laid below.

Then up spoke a boy of our gallant ship,

And a well speaking boy was he,

"I've a father and mother in fair Portsmouth town,

And this night they will weep for me."

Then up spoke a man of our gallant ship,

And a well spoken man was he,

"I have married a wife in fair London town,

And this night a widow she shall be."

Then up spoke the captain of our gallant ship,

And a valiant man was he,

"For want of a boat we shall be drowned,"

For she sunk to the bottom of the sea.

The moon shone bright, and the stars gave light,

And my mother was looking for me,

She might look, and weep, with watery eyes,

She might look to the bottom of the sea.

Three times round went our gallant ship,

And three times round went she,

Three times round went our gallant ship,

Then she sunk to the bottom of the sea.

CAPTAIN WARD AND THE RAINBOW

[Broadside.]

|Strike up, you lusty gallants,

With music and sound of drum,

For we have descried a rover

Upon the sea is come.

His name is Captain Ward,

Right well it doth appear

There has not been such a rover

Found out this thousand year.

For he hath sent unto the king,

The sixth of January,

Desiring that he might come in

With all his company:

"And if your king will let me come,

Till I my tale have told,

I will bestow for my ransom

Full thirty ton of gold."

"O nay, O nay," then said our king,

"O nay, this may not be,

To yield to such a rover,

Myself will not agree;

He hath deceived the Frenchman,.

Likewise the king of Spain,

And how can he be true to me

That hath been false to twain?"

With that our king provided

A ship of worthy fame,

Rainbow is she called,

If you would know her name.

Now the gallant Rainbow,

She roves upon the sea,

Five hundred gallant seamen

To bear her company.

The Dutchman, and the Spaniard,

She made them for to flee,

Also the bonny Frenchman,

As she met him on the sea.

When as this gallant Rainbow

Did come where Ward did lie,

"Where is the captain of this ship?"

This gallant Rainbow did cry.

"Oh, that am I," said Captain Ward,

"There's no man bids me lie;

And if thou art the king's fair ship,

Thou art welcome unto me."

"I tell thee what," says Rainbow,

"Our king is in great grief,

That thou shouldst lie upon the sea,

And play the arrant thief.

"And will not let our merchant ships

Pass as they did before;

Such tidings to our king is come,

Which grieves his heart full sore."

With that this gallant Rainbow

She shot out of her pride,

Full fifty gallant brass pieces,

Charged on every side.

And yet these gallant shooters,

Prevailed not a pin;

Though they were brass on the outside,

Brave Ward was steel within:

"Shoot on, shoot on/' says Captain Ward,

"Your sport well pleaseth me,

And he that first gives over

Shall yield unto the sea.

"I never wronged an English ship,

But Turk and king of Spain,

And the jovial Dutchman,

As I met on the main.

If I had known your king

But one two years before,

I would have saved brave Essex life,

Whose death did grieve me sore.

"Go tell the king of England,

Go tell him thus from me,

If he reign king of all the land,

I will reign king at sea."

With that the gallant Rainbow shot,

And shot, and shot in vain,

And left the rover's company,

And returned home again.

"Our royal king of England,

Your ship's returned again,

For Ward's ship is so strong

It never will be ta'en."

"O Everlasting," said our king,

"I have lost jewels three,

Which would have gone unto the wars,

And brought proud Ward to me."

The first was Lord Clifford,

Earl of Cumberland;

The second was Lord Mountjoy,

As you shall understand;

The third was brave Essex,

From field would never flee,

Which would agone unto the seas,

And brought proud Ward to me.

GREENLAND WHALE FISHERY

|We can no longer stay on shore,

Since we are so deep in debt;

So a voyage to Greenland we will go,

Some money for to get--brave boys.

Now when we lay at Liverpool,

Our good-like ship to man,

'Twas there our names were all wrote down,

And were bound for Greenland--brave boys.

In eighteen hundred and twenty-four,

On March the twenty-third,

We hoisted our colours up to our mast-head,

And for Greenland bore away--brave boys.

But when we came to Greenland,

Our good-like ship to moor,

O then we wish'd ourselves back again,

With our friends upon the shore--brave boys.

The boatswain went to the mast-head,

With his spy-glass in his hand,

"Here's a whale, a whale, a whale," he cried,

"And she blows on every spring--brave boys."

The Captain on the quarter deck,

(A very good man was he),

"Overhaul, overhaul, your boat tackle-fall,

And launch your boats to sea--brave boys."

The boats being launch'd and the hands got in,

The whale fishes appeared in view,

Resolved was the whole boat's crew

To steer where the whale fish blew--brave boys.

The whale being struck and the line paid on,

She gave a flash with her tail,

She capsized the boat and lost five men,

Nor did we catch the whale--brave boys.

Bad news unto our Captain brought,

That we had lost the 'prentice boys;

He hearing of the dreadful news,

His colours down did haul--brave boys.

The losing of this whale, brave boys,

Did grieve his heart full sore,

But losing of his five brave men,

Did grieve him ten times more--brave boys.

"Come, weigh your anchor, my brave boys,

For the winter star I see;

It is time we should leave this cold country

And for England bear away--brave boys."

For Greenland is a barren place,

Neither light nor day to be seen,

Nought but ice and snow where the whale fish blew

And the day-light's seldom seen--brave boys.

GOLDEN VANITEE

|Sir Walter Raleigh has built a ship

In the Netherlands;

And it is called the Sweet Trinity,

And was taken by the false Gallaly,

Sailing in the Lowlands.

Is there never a seaman bold

In the Netherlands?

That will go take this false Gallaly,

And to redeem the Sweet Trinity,

Sailing in the Lowlands.

Then spoke the little ship-boy

In the Netherlands;

"Master, master, what will you give me?

And I will take this false Gallaly,

And release the Sweet Trinity

Sailing in the Lowlands."

"I'll give thee gold, and I'll give thee fee,

In the Netherlands;

And my eldest daughter thy wife shall be,

Sailing in the Lowlands."

He set his breast and away he did swim,

In the Netherlands;

Until he came to the false Gallaly,

Sailing in the Lowlands.

He had an augur fit for the nonce

In the Netherlands;

The which will bore

Fifteen good holes at once,

Sailing in the Lowlands.

Some were at cards, and some at dice,

In the Netherlands;

Until the salt water flashed in their eyes,

Sailing in the Lowlands.

Some cut their hats, and some their caps,

In the Netherlands;

For to stop the salt-water gaps,

Sailing in the Lowlands.

He set his breast and away did swim,

In the Netherlands;

Until he came to his own ship again,

Sailing in the Lowlands.

"I have done the work I promised to do

In the Netherlands;

For I have sunk the false Gallaly,

And released the Sweet Trinity,

Sailing in the Lowlands.

"You promis'd me gold, and you promis'd me fee,

In the Netherlands;

Your eldest daughter my wife she must be,

Sailing in the Lowlands."

(_nonce_, occasion.)

"You shall have gold, and you shall have fee,

In the Netherlands;

But my eldest daughter your wife shall never be,

Sailing in the Lowlands."

"Then fare you well, you cozening Lord,

In the Netherlands;

Seeing you are not as good as your word,

For sailing in the Lowlands."

And thus shall I conclude my song

Of the sailing in the Lowlands;

Wishing happiness to all seamen, old and young,

In their sailing in the Lowlands.

THE YORKSHIRE HORSE-DEALER

|Near to Clapham town-gate lived an old Yorkshire tike,

Who in dealing in horseflesh had ne'er met his like;

'Twas his pride that in all the hard bargains he'd hit,

He'd bit a great many, but never been bit.

(_town-gate_, high road.)

This old Tommy Tavers (by that name he was known),

Had an old carrion bit that was sheer skin and bone;

To have killed him for the curs would have been quite as well,

But 'twas Tommy's opinion he'd die of himsel.

Well! one Abey Muggins, a neighbouring cheat,

Thought to diddle old Tommy would be a great treat;

He'd a horse, too, 'twas worse than old Tommy's, you see,

Fortnight afore that he'd thought proper to dee!

Thinks Abey, th' old codger'll never smoke t' trick,

I'll swop with him my poor dead horse for his quick,

And if Tommy I nobbut can happen to trap,

'Twill be a fine feather in Aberram cap.

So to Tommy he goes and to Tommy he pops:

"Between my horse and thine, prithee, Tommy, what swops?

What will give me to boot? for mines t' better horse still!"

"Nought," says Tommy, "I'll swop even hands, an ye will."

(_nobbut,_ only.)

Abbey preached a long time about something to boot,

Insisting that his was the liveliest brute;

But Tommy stuck fast where he first had begun,

Till Abey shook hands, and said, "Well Tommy, done."

"O! Tommy," said Abey, "I'se sorry for thee,

I thought thou'd a hadden more white in thy ee;

Good luck's in thy bargain, for my horse is

dead"--

"Hey," says Tommy, "my lad, so is mine, an it's flayed."

So Tommy got t' better of t' bargain, a vast,

And came off with a Yorkshireman's triumph at last;

For though 'twixt dead horses there's not much to choose

Yet Tommy was richer by the hide and four shoes.

WIDDICOMBE FAIR

|Tom Pearse, Tom Pearse, lend me your grey

mare,

All along, down along, out along, lee;

For I want for to go to Widdicombe fair,

Wi' Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney,

Peter Davy, Dan'l Whiddon,

Harry Hawk, Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all,"

Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.

"And when shall I see again my grey mare?"

All along, &c.

"By Friday soon, or Saturday noon,"

Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

Then Friday came, and Saturday noon,

All along, &c.

But Tom Pearses old mare hath not trotted

home,

Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

So Tom Pearse he got up to the top o' the hill,

All along, &c.

And he see'd his old mare down a-making her will

Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

So Tom Pearse's old mare, her took sick and died,

All along, &c.

And Tom he sat down on a stone, and he cried

Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

And now that Tom Pearse's old grey mare is dead

All along, &c.

They all did agree that she should be buried

Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

But this isn't the end o' this shocking affair,

All along, &c.

Nor, though they be dead, of the horrid career

Of Bill Brewer, &c.

When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night,

All along, &c.

Tom Pearse's old mare doth appear, gashly white,

Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

And all the long night be heard skirling and groans,

All along, down along, out along, lee;

From Tom Pearse's old mare in her rattling bones,

And from Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter

Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan'l Whiddon,

Harry Hawk, Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all,

Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.

LAZARUS

|As it fell out upon one day,

Rich Diverus he made a feast;

And he invited all his friends,

And gentry of the best.

And it fell out upon one day,

Poor Lazarus he was so poor,

He came and laid him down and down,

Ev'n down at Diverus' door.

So Lazarus laid him down and down,

Ev'n down at Diverus' door;

"Some meat, some drink, brother Diverus,

Do bestow upon the poor.''

"Thou art none of mine, brother Lazarus,

Lying begging at my door,

No meat, no drink will I give thee,

Nor bestow upon the poor.''

Then Lazarus laid him down and down,

Ev'n down at Diverus' wall;

"Some meat, some drink, brother Diverus,

Or surely starve I shall.''

"Thou art none of mine, brother Lazarus,

Lying begging at my wall;

No meat, no drink will I give thee,

And therefore starve thou shall.''

Then Lazarus laid him down and down,

Ev'n down at Diverus' gate;

"Some meat, some drink, brother Diverus,

For Jesus Christ his sake."

"Thou art none of mine, brother Lazarus,

Lying begging at my gate,

No meat, no drink will I give thee,

For Jesus Christ his sake."

Then Diverus sent his merry men all,

To whip poor Lazarus away;

They had not power to whip one whip,

But threw their whips away.

Then Diverus sent out his hungry dogs,

To bite poor Lazarus away;

They had not power to bite one bite,

But licked his sores away.

And it fell out upon one day,

Poor Lazarus he sickened and died;

There came two angels out of heaven,

His soul thereto to guide.

"Rise up, rise up, brother Lazarus,

And come along with me,

There is a place prepared in heaven,

For to sit upon an angel's knee."

And it fell out upon one day,

Rich Diverus sickened and died;

There came two serpents out of hell

His soul thereto to guide.

"Rise up, rise up, brother Diverus,

And come along with me;

There is a place prepared in hell,

For to sit upon a serpent's knee."

THE GAY LADY THAT WENT TO CHURCH

|There was a lady all skin and bone;

Sure such a lady was never known:

It happen'd upon a certain day,

This lady went to church to pray.

When she came to the church stile,

There she did rest a little while;

When she came to the church yard,

There the bells so loud she heard.

When she came to the church door,

She stopt to rest a little more;

When she came the church within,

The parson pray'd gainst pride and sin.

On looking up, on looking down,

She saw a dead man on the ground;

And from his nose unto his chin,

The worms crawl'd out, the worms crawl'd in.

Then she unto the parson said,

"Shall I be so when I am dead?"

"O yes! O yes," the parson said,

"You will be so when you are dead."

_Here the lady screams_.