I was very well pleased with what I knowed,
I reckoned myself no fool—
Till I met with a maid on the Brookland Road,
That turned me back to school.
Low down—low down!
Where the liddle green lanterns shine—
O maids, I’ve done with ‘ee all but one,
And she can never be mine!
’Twas right in the middest of a hot June night,
With thunder duntin’ round,
And I see her face by the fairy—light
That beats from off the ground.
She only smiled and she never spoke,
She smiled and went away;
But when she’d gone my heart was broke
And my wits was clean astray.
O, stop your ringing and let me be—
Let be, 0 Brookland bells!
You’ll ring Old Goodman out of the sea,
Before I wed one else!
Old Goodman’s Farm is rank sea—sand,
And was this thousand year;
But it shall turn to rich plough—land
Before I change my dear.
O, Fairfield Church is water—bound
From autumn to the spring;
But it shall turn to high hill—ground
Before my bells do ring.
O, leave me walk on Brookland Road,
In the thunder and warm rain—
O, leave me look where my love goed,
And p’raps I’ll see her again!
Low down– low down!
Where the liddle green lanterns shine—
O maids, I’ve done with 'ee all but one,
And she can never be mine!