These words were composed by Spencer the Rover,
Who'd travelled most parts of Great Britain and Wales,
He was much reduced which caused great confusion,
And that was the reason that he went on the rails.
In Yorkshire near Rotherham when I first took my rambles
Being tired and weary, I sat myself down to rest,
At the foot of yon mountain there runs a bright fountain
With bread and clean water myself did refresh.
Far sweeter it tasted than the gold I had wasted,
It tasted far sweeter and gave more content,
But the thought of my babies lamenting for their father
Brought tears to my eyes and caused me to repent.
The night then approaching, to the woods I departed,
With woodbine and ivy my bed for to make,
I heard a voice sighing, lamenting and crying,
Come home to your family and rambling forsake.
It was the fifth of November, I have reason to remember,
When first I returned to my children and wife,
She stood so surprised when first I arrived,
To see such a stranger once more in her sight.
Then my children came around me with their prittle-prattling stories,
With their prittle-prattling stories to drive care away,
And like birds of a feather we flocked together,
Like bees in one hive together we'll stay.
So now I am seated in my cottage contented
Where woodbine and ivy hang over my door,
I am happy as them that's got thousands in riches,
Contented I'll stay and go rambling no more.
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