The Market Song

On a fine evening fair in the month of april
Over the hill came the sun with a smile
And the folks they were throngin' the roads everywhere
Makin' haste to be in at the Copshawholme Fair
I’ve seen 'em a-comin' from mountains and glens
Those rosy-faced lasses and strappin' young men
With a joy in their heart and unburdened o' care
A-meetin' old friends at the Copshawholme Fair
Whoever joined our gathering
And danced under the garlands green
Will never be the same again
Now rest your head and stay a while
And dwell with us the summer’s night
And you’ll never be the same again
There are lads for the lasses, there’s toys for the bairns
Jugglers and tumblers and folks with no arms
There’s a ballad-singer here and a fiddler there
Nut-men and spice-men at Copshawholme Fair
There are peddlers and potters and gingerbread stands
Peepshows and popping-darts and green caravans
There’s fruit from all nations exhibited there
With kale plants from Orange at Copshawholme Fair
Whoever joined our gathering
And danced under the garlands green
Will never be the same again
Now rest your head and stay a while
And dwell with us the summer’s night
And you’ll never be the same again
You came a long way, you traveled for so long
Now rest your head before the summer’s gone
Meet us in the sunny fields and meet us in the greenwood deep
And step in our faerie ring 'cause you’ll never ever ever be the same again
When the hiring is over, off they all sprang
Into the ballroom for to join in the throng
And «I Never Will Lie With My Mammy Nae Mair»
The fiddles play briskly at Copshawholme Fair