Copshawholme Fair - Steeleye Span

On a fine eve’n fair in the month of Avril

O’er the hill came the man with the blythe sunny smile

And the folks they were throngin' the roads everywhere

Makin' haste to be in at Copshawholme Fair

I’ve seen 'em a-comin' in from the 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 Copshawholme Fair

There are lads for the lasses, there’s toys for the bairns

There jugglers and tumblers and folks with no arms

There’s a balancing act here and a fiddler there

There are nut-men and spice-men at Copshawholme Fair

There are peddlers and potters and gingerbread stands

There are peepshows and poppin-darts and the green caravans

There’s fruit from all nations exhibited there

With kale plants from Orange at Copshawholme Fair

And now above all the hiring if you want to hear tell

You should ken it as afar I’ve seen it myself

What wages they adle it’s ill to declare

The muckle they vary at Copshawholme Fair

Just the gal I have seen she’s a strapping young queen

He asked what her age was and where she had been

What work she’d been doin', how long she’d been there

What wages she wanted at Copshawholme Fair

Just then the bit lass stood a wee while in gloom

And she blushed and she scraped with her feet on the ground

Then she plucked up her heart and did stoutly declare

Well, a five pound and turn at Copshawholme Fair

Says he, but me lass, that’s a very big wage

Then he’d turning about like he been in a rage

Says, I’ll give ye five pounds but I’ll give ye nay mare

Well I think him and tuck it at Copshawholme Fair

He took out a shilling but to haul the bit wench

In case it might enter her head for to flinch

But she grabbed it muttering I should have had mare

But I think I will tuck it at Copshawholme Fair

Now the hirin’s o’er and 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

Now this is the fashion they thus passed the day

Till the night comin' on they all hurry away

And some are so sick that they’ll never join more

With the fighting and dancing at Copshawholme Fair