Blackwell Merry Night Lyrics

Aye, lad, such a merry night we've had at Blackwell
The sound of the fiddle still rings in my ear
All well clipped & heeled were the lads & the lasses
& many a lively young lassie was there
The better sort they sat snug in the parlour
In the pantry the sweethearts they whispered so soft
The dancers they kicked up a dust in the kitchen
At lanter the card-players sat in the loft

The clogger from Dawston's a famous top hero
& beats all the player-folk twenty 2 one
He stamped with his foot & he shouted & roystered
Till the sweat it ran off his very chin end
Then he held up a hand like the spout of a tea-pot
& danced Cross the Buckle & Leather 2 Patch
When they cried Bonny Bell he leapt up 2 the ceilin'
Kept snappin' his thumbs for a bit of a fratch

The Heverby lads were well used 2 deep drinkin'
At cockin' the Dawstoners neva were beat
The Buckabank chaps were right famous at courtin'
Their kisses just sound like the latch of a gate
The lasses of Blackwell are so many angels
The Cummersdale beauties all glory in fun
God help the poor fellow that squints at them dancin'
He'll steal away heartless as sure as a gun

The bacca was strong & the ale it was lively & many a one emptied a quart like a churn
Daft Fred in the nook, like a half-roasted devil
He told smutty stories & made them all grin
Then one sang Tom Linton another Dick Walters
The farmers all bragged of their fillies & foals
With jibin' & jokin', & shakin' & laughin'
Till some thought it time 2 set off 2 the coals

But hold! I forgot: when the clock struck eleven
The platter was brought in with white bread & brown
The knife it was sharp, the great cheese was a topper
An lumps big as lapstones our lads gobbled down
The trim, jolly landlady cried, Do not be shy
In God's name step forward; now welcome & eat
Our guts were well filled, we paid up for blind Jenny
& ext paid the shot on a great pewter plate

Now full 2 the throttle, with headaches an heartaches
Some crept 2 the clock case instead of the door
Then sleepin' & snorin' took place of their roarin'
An one a-top another they laid on the floor
The last of December, long may we remember
At five in' the morn, eighteen hundred & three
Here's health & success 2 the brave Johnny Dawston
An many such meetings may we live 2 see

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