Saturday, November 1, 2008
Spencer the Rover
These words were composed by Spencer the Rover
Who had travelled Great Britain and most parts of Wales
He had been so reduced 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 runs 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 their father
Brought tears to his eyes and caused him to lament.
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
To home to your family and rambling forsake.
On the fifth of November I've a reason to remember
When first he arrived home to his family and wife
They stood so surprised when first he arrived
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 a-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 rambling no more.
See also the version collected by Bob Copper from Jim Barrett in Hampshire, around 1954.
The Rams Horn
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