The Captain was traversing Brandy Moor,
With hazel-twig in hand.
The hazel twisted and turned about
And brought him to a stand.
Chorus: Oh! the Keenly lode
Of bâls the best, my boys;
Old Uncle Pengerric very well knowed
How to feather his nest, my boys.
Old Uncle Pengerric, so big did brag
Of ore in Brandy Bâl,
'Come, fork out your money, my Christian friends,
Your fortunes treble all.'
Now Uncle was reckoned a preacher stout,
A burning and shining light.
The people all said, 'What he has in head,
Will surely turn out right.'
Chorus: Oh! the Keenly lode, etc.
The Company floated, the shares paid up,
The gold came flowing in.
He set up a whim, and began to sink
For the Keenly lode of tin.
He had not burrowed but five foot six,
Ere he came to a buried hoss.
Said Uncle Pengerric, 'No fault of mine,
Tho't turn out someone's loss.'
Chorus: Oh! the Keenly lode, etc.
The shaft descended, but ne'er a grain
Of ore was brought to ground;
And presently Uncle Pengerric too,
Was not in Cornwall found.
But, wherever he goes, and wherever he talks,
He says: 'The rod told true.
It brought to me luck, but it turn'd and struck
At naught but an old horse shoe.'
Chorus: Oh! the Keenly lode, etc."
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Keenly means "promising," and bâl is a mine, Uncle is a title accorded to any elderly man. Mr. Bussell was with me and he took down the air.
There is, as became in later days more and more apparent to me, a sad defect in the German moral sense, due to the teaching
