Songs of the West. S. (Sabine) Baring-Gould

All along, &c.

       And he seed his old mare down a making her will

       Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

      5

      So Tom Pearce'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.

      6

      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.

      7

      When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night

       All along, &c.

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

       Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

      8

      And all the long night be heard skirling and groans,

       All along, &c.

       From Tom Pearce'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 Cobbley and all.

       CHORUS: Old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all.

      No 17 YE MAIDENS PRETTY

       Table of Contents

      C.J.S.

      [Listen] [XML] [Note]

      1

      Ye maidens pretty

       In town and city,

       I pray you pity

       My mournful strain.

       A maiden weeping,

       Her night-watch keeping,

       In grief unsleeping

       Makes her complain:

       In tower I languish

       In cold and sadness,

       Heart full of anguish,

       Eye full of tear.

       Whilst glades are ringing

       With maidens singing,

       Sweet roses bringing

       To crown the year.

      2

      Thro' hills and vallies

       Thro' shaded alleys,

       And pleached palis—

       Ading of grove;

       Among fair bowers,

       Midst fragrant flowers,

       Pass sunny hours,

       And sing of love.

       In tower I languish, &c.

      3

      My cruel father

       Gave straitest order,

       By watch and warder,

       I barr'd should be.

       All in my chamber,

       High out of danger,

       From eye of ranger,

       In misery.

       In tower I languish, &c.

      4

      Enclosed in mortar,

       By wall and water,

       A luckless daughter

       All white and wan;

       Till day is breaking

       My bed forsaking,

       I all night waking

       Sing like the swan.

       In tower I languish,

       In cold and sadness,

       Heart full of anguish,

       Eye full of tear,

       Whilst glades are ringing

       With maidens singing

       Sweet roses bringing,

       To crown the year.

      No 18 THE SILLY OLD MAN

       Table of Contents

      H.F.S.

      [Listen] [XML] [Note]

      1

      Aw! Come now, I'll sing you a song,

       'Tis a song of right merry intent,

       Concerning a silly old man,

       Who went for to pay his rent,

       Singing, Too-ra-la-loo-ra-loo.

      2

      And as this here silly old man,

       Was riding along the lane,

       A Gentleman thief overtook him,

       Saying "Well over-taken old man."

      3

      "What! well over-taken, do'y say?"

       "Yes, well over-taken," quoth he.

       "No, no," said the silly old man.

       "I don't want thy company.

      4

      "I am only a silly old man,

       I farm but a parcel of ground.

       And I am going to the landlord to pay,

       My rent which is just forty pound."

      5

      "But supposing a highway-man stopped you?

       For the rascals are many, men say,

       And take all the money from off you

       As you ride on the king's highway?"

      6

      "What! supposing some fellow should stop me?

       Why badly the thief would be sped.

       For the money I carry about me

       In the quilt o' my saddle is hid."

      7

      And as they were riding along,

       Along and along the green lane,

       The Gentleman thief rode afore him

       And summoned the old man to stand.

      8

      But the old man was crafty and cunning,

       As, I wot, in the world there be many,

       Pitched his saddle clean over the hedge,

       Saying, "Fetch'n if thou would'st have any,"

       Singing, Too-ra-la-loo-ra-loo.

      9

      Then the thief being thirsty for gold,

       And eager to get at his bags,

       He dra'ed out his rusty old sword,

       And chopped up the saddle to rags.

      10

      The