When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night,
All along, down along, out along, lee.
Tom Pearse’s old mare doth appear, gashly white,
Wi’ Bill Brewer, &c.
VIII
And all the long night be heard skirling and groans,
All along, down along, out along, lee.
From Tom Pearse’s old mare in her rattling bones,
And from Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney,
Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk,
Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all
Chorus. Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.
[172. Get up and Bar the Door]
I
It fell about the Martinmas time,
And a gay time it was then,
When our goodwife got puddings to make,
And she’s boil’d them in the pan.
II
The wind sae cauld blew south and north,
And blew into the floor;
Quoth our goodman to our goodwife,
‘Gae out and bar the door.’—