The Morpeth wedding garland/The Morpeth wedding garland

The M O R P E T H G A R L A N D, &c.

❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧❧

The Morpeth Wedding; or, The drunken Frolick.

To the Tune of, Gilly Crankey.

THE like was never heard nor ſeen,
For oft Times I've been bidden,
’Tween Morpeth, Benridge, and Bowlsgreen,
But ne'er to ſuch a Wedding.

There's ne'er a Wight I dare well ſay,
Seek Tweed and all the Border;
At Supper-time began the Fray,
At Midnight cry’d out Murder.

Then Cuddy he click'd up the Cup,
Stout Stephen now have at thee;
Jockey and Jenny drank it up,
And Beſſy fetch'd Tobacco:

And Roger rave him by the Roof,
And he ſtruck neareſt Hand him;
Stout Stephen he's fell’d with a Cuff,
And on the Floor they fand him.

And tidey Tom lay on the Floor,
Which made him loſe his Hold there;
Miſchievous Martin, with a Stool,
Fell'd Francis ſtark and cald there:

And ſhe to him and he to her,
And they fell all together;
What Strife, what Dirdom, and what Din,
Boards fail’d, and all fell o’er there.

The harmleſs Calf began to blate,
And Hens fell of the Flake there;
And Cappie's Calf began to raer,
The Cow pull’d up her Stake there:

Miſchieveouſly came by a Dog,
And click’d her by the Lips there;
With that the Cow did wag her Tail,
And ſhe flung up her Hips there.

But had you heard the boiſt’rous Blaws
John Bucham's Dog endured there;
Such Whanks the Trenchers took the Walls
And fearful Oath’s were ſwore there.

The Pewter Spoons were Piſtol Shot,
And Doublers they redounded;
With Bottles, Pots, and Candleſticks,
Few of them eſcap’d unwounded.

The Sparks flew from the Chimney Top,
The Country Lads cry’d Fire there;
The Barrels not held in one Drop,
Which dreſt the Meat like Mire there:

The doating Hens fell off the Baulks,
Which fifteen Days had ſitten there,
The rotten Eggs fell down with Whacks,
And Kiſtern Craggs beſhitten there.

The Cows rove all the Cloaths to Clouts,
The Drink ſtood all in Pools there;
The Scholar Lads cry'd with a Shout,
And ſwore they bated Bulls there.

The Rocks, the Reels, the Spinning Wheels,
The Sight full fore was grieved there;
With Hawks and Bells about their Heels,
Were cut at ſome Miſchief there.

John Anderſon, John Fefferſon,
Fell in amongſt the Strugglers;
Hob Anderſon, Jeffrey Fellion,
Dang down a Dozen of Dublers.

At laſt the Muſick Murder cry'd,
And all the Women ſqueaked,
And Jenny Jockey's Dagger 'ſpyd,
And ſwore the Men were ſticked.

The Bridegroom like an honeſt Man,
He wore them off the Bairns there,
They run away like felter'd Foals,
And ravel’d all the Yarn there.

Tom Tate came ſtrutting like a Stirk,
Through Midden, Pools, and Cinders,
And all the Light thoſe Limmers had,
Came in at broken Winders.

They were all at their Arms that Night,
With ſeveral Rakes and Forks there,
With that they ended all the Strife,
Will. Skinner got the Stocks there.