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a queer story - herbert howells lyrics

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three jolly farmers
once bet a pound
each dance the others would
off the ground

out of their coats
they slipped right soon
and neat and nicesome
put each his shoon

one ** two ** three!
and away they go
not too fast
and not too slow;

out from the elm*tree’s
noonday shadow
into the sun
and across the meadow

past the schoolroom
with knees well bent
fingers a fl!cking
they dancing went

up sides and over
and round and round
they crossed cl!ck*clacking
the parish bound;
by tupman’s meadow
they did their mile
tee*to*tum
on a three*barred stile

then straight through whipham
downhill to week
footing it lightsome
but not too quick

up fields to watchet
and on through wye
till seven fine churches
they’d seen slip by **

seven fine churches
and five old mills
farms in the valley
and sheep on the hills;

old man’s acre
and dead man’s pool
all left behind
as they danced through wool

and wool gone by
like tops that seem
to spin in sleep
they danced in dream:
withy ** wellover **
wassop ** wo **
like an old clock
their heels did go

a league and a league
and a league they went
and not one weary
and not one spent

and log, and behold!
past willow*cum*leigh
stretched with its waters
the great green sea

says farmer bates
“i puffs and i blows
what’s under the water
why, no man knows!”

says farmer giles
“my mind comes weak
and a good man drownded
is far to seek.”

but farmer turvey
on twirling toes
up’s with his gaiters
and in he goes:
down where the mermaids
pluck and play
on their tw*ngling harps
in a sea*green day;

down where the mermaids
finned and fair
sleek with their combs
their yellow hair. . .

bates and giles **
on the shingle sat
gazing at turvey’s
floating hat

but never a ripple
nor bubble told
where he was supping
off plates of gold

never an echo
rilled through the sea
of the feasting and dancing
and minstrelsy

they called ** called ** called;
came no reply:
nought but the ripples’
sandy sigh

then glum and silent
they sat instead
vacantly brooding
on home and bed

till both together stood up and said: **
“us knows not, dreams not
where you be, turvey
unless in the deep blue sea;

but axcusing silver **
and it comes most willing **
here’s us two paying
our forty shilling;

for it’s sartin sure, turvey
safe and sound
you danced us a square, turvey
off the ground.”

- herbert howells lyrics

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