The Newcastle Song Book Part 9

When, wheit dyun ower, the fiddlers went, We stagger'd a hint sae merry, O; An thro' wor toon, till fairly spent, Roar'd--Crowley's Crew an' glory, O!

WINLATON HOPPING.

Ye sons of glee come join with me, Ye who love mirth and toping, O, You'll ne'er refuse to hear my muse Sing of Winlaton fam'd Hopping, O, To Tenche's Hotel let's retire, To tipple away so neatly, O: The fiddle and song you'll sure admire, Together they sound so sweetly, O.

Tal lal la, &c.

With box and die you'll Sammy spy, Of late Sword-dancers' Bessy, O-- All patch'd and torn with tail and horn, Just like a De'il in dressy, O: But late discharg'd from that employ, This scheme popp'd in his noddle, O; Which fill'd his little heart with joy, And pleas'd blithe Sammy Doddle, O.

Close by the stocks, his dies and box He rattled away so rarely, O; Both youth and age did he engage, Together they play'd so cheerly, O: While just close by the sticks did fly At spice on k.n.o.bs of woody, O: 'How! mind my legs!' the youngsters cry, 'Wey, man, thou's drawn the b.l.o.o.d.y!' O.

Rang'd in a row, a glorious show Of spice, and nuts for cracking, O; With handsome toys for girls and boys, Grac'd Winlaton fam'd Hopping, O.

Each to the stalls led his dear la.s.s, And treat her there so sweetly, O; Then straight retire to drink a gla.s.s, An' shuffle an' cut so neatly, O.

Ye men so wise who knowledge prize, Let not this scene confound ye, O; At Winship's door might ye explore The world a' running round ye, O: Blithe boys and girls on horse and chair, Flew round without e'er stopping, O; Sure Blaydon Races can't compare With Winlaton fam'd Hopping, O.

The night came on, with dance and song, Each public-house did jingle, O; All ranks did swear to banish Care, The married and the single, O: They tript away till morning light, Then slept sound without rocking, O; Next day got drunk in merry plight, And jaw'd about the Hopping, O.

At last dull Care his crest did rear, Our heads he sore did riddle, O; Till Peac.o.c.k drew his pipes and blew, And Tenche he tun'd his fiddle, O; Then Painter Jack he led the van, The drum did join in chorus, O,-- The old and young then danc'd and sung, Dull Care fled far before us, O.

No courtier fine, nor grave divine, That's got the whole he wishes, O, Will ever be so blithe as we, With all their loaves and fishes, O: Then grant, O Jove! our ardent prayer, And happy still you'll find us, O;-- Let pining Want and haggard Care, A day's march keep behind us, O.

THE SANDGATE GIRL'S LAMENTATION.

I was a young maiden truly, And lived in Sandgate-street; I thought to marry a good man, To keep me warm at neet.

Some good-like body, some bonny body, To be with me at noon; But last I married a keelman, And my good days are done.

I thought to marry a parson, To hear me say my prayers; But I have married a keelman, And he kicks me down the stairs.

He's an ugly body, a bubbly body, An ill-far'd ugly loon; And I have married a keelman, And my good days are done.

I thought to marry a dyer, To dye my ap.r.o.n blue; And I have married a keelman, And he makes me sorely rue.

He's an ugly body, a bubbly body, An ill-far'd ugly loon; And I have married a keelman, And my good days are done.

I thought to marry a joiner, To make me chair and stool; But I have married a keelman, And he's a perfect fool.

He's an ugly body, a bubbly body, An ill-far'd ugly loon; And I have married a keelman, And my good days are done.

I thought to marry a sailor, To bring me sugar and tea; But I have married a keelman, And that he lets me see.

He's an ugly body, a bubbly body, An ill-far'd ugly loon; And I have married a keelman, And my good days are done.

THE COLLIER'S RANT.

As me and my marrow was gannin to wark, We met wi' the De'il, it was in the dark; I up wi' my pick, it being in the neet, And knock'd off his horns, likewise his club feet.

Follow the horses, Johnny, my lad, oh!

Follow them through, my canny lad, oh!

Follow the horses, Johnny, my lad, oh!

Oh, lad, lie away, canny lad, oh!

As me and my marrow was putting the tram, The lowe it went oot, and my marrow went wrang; You would have laugh'd had you seen the gam, The de'il gat my marrow, but I gat the tram.

Follow the horses, &c.

Oh, marrow! oh, marrow! what dost thou think?

I've broken my bottle and spilt a' my drink; I've lost a' my shin-splints amang the greet stanes, Draw me to the shaft, it's time to gan hame.

Follow the horses, &c.

Oh, marrow! oh, marrow! where hest thou been?

Driving the drift frae the low seam, Driving the drift frae the low seam: Haud up the lowe, lad! de'il stop oot thy een!

Follow the horse, &c.

Oh, marrow! oh, marrow! this is wor pay week, We'll get penny loaves, and drink to our beek; And we'll fill up our b.u.mper, and round it shall go, Follow the horses, Johnny lad, oh!

Follow the horses, &c.

There is me horse, and there is me tram; Twee horns full of greese will myek her to gan; There is me hoggers, likewise me half shoon, And smash me heart! marrow, me putting's a' done!

Follow the horses, &c.

WEEL MAY THE KEEL ROW.

As I cam thro' Sandgate, thro' Sandgate, thro' Sandgate, As I cam thro' Sandgate, I heard a la.s.sie sing, Weel may the keel row, the keel row, the keel row, Weel may the keel row, that my laddie's in.

He wears a blue bonnet, blue bonnet, blue bonnet, He wears a blue bonnet, a dimple in his chin: And weel may the keel row, the keel row, the keel row, And weel may the keel row that my laddie's in.

THE NEW KEEL ROW.

Whe's like my Johnny, Sae leish, sae blithe, sae bonny?

He's foremost 'mang the mony Keel lads o' Coaly Tyne; He'll set or row sae tightly, Or in the dance sae sprightly, He'll cut and shuffle sightly: 'Tis true--were he not mine.

Weel may the keel row, The keel row, the keel row, Weel may the keel row, That my laddie's in: He wears a blue bonnet, A bonnet, a bonnet, He wears a blue bonnet, A dimple in his chin.

He's nae mair o' learning, Than tells his weekly earning, Yet reet frae wrang discerning, Tho' brave, nae bruiser he: Tho' he no worth a plack is, His awn coat on his back is, And nyen can say that black is The white o' Johnny's e'e.

Weel may the keel row, &c.