We'll fight after the harvest hum.
And Silas Jones, that bookie wide,
Will make a purse five pounds a side.'
Those were the words, that was the place
By which God brought me into grace.
On Wood Top Field the peewits go
Mewing and wheeling ever so;
And like the shaking of a timbrel
Cackles the laughter of the whimbrel.
In the old quarry-pit they say