This tune was composed by Spencer the Rover
|
As valiant a man as ever left home
|
And he had been much reduced
|
Which caused great confusion
|
And that was the reason he started to roam.
|
|
In Yorkshire near Rotherham, he had been on the ramble
|
Weary of travelling, he sat down to rest
|
By the foot of yon¡¯ mountain
|
Lays a clear flowing fountain
|
With bread and cold water he himself did refresh.
|
|
With the night fast approaching, to the woods he resorted
|
With wood, vine and ivy his bed for to make
|
But he dreamt about sighing
|
Lamenting and crying
|
Go home to your family and rambling forsake.
|
|
Twas the fifth day of November, I¡¯ve reason to remember
|
When first he arrived home to his family and friends
|
And they did stand so astounded
|
Surprised and dumbfounded
|
To see such a stranger once more in their sight.
|
|
And his children come around him with their prittle prattling stories
|
With their prittle prattling stories to drive care away
|
And he¡¯s as happy as those
|
As have thousands of riches
|
Contented he¡¯ll remain and not ramble away.
|
|
This tune was composed by Spencer the Rover
|
As valiant a man as ever left home
|
And he had been much reduced
|
And caused great confusion
|
And that was the reason he started to roam.
|
|
-----------------
|
Spencer The Rover
|
Colin Hay |