The Hand Weaver And The Factory Maid

I am a hand weaver, to my trade

I fell in love with a factory maid

And if I could her favour gain

I'd sit beside her and weave by steam

My father to me scornful said

"How could you fancy a factory maid?

"When you could have girls both fine and gay

"All dressed like unto the Queen of May?"



As for your fine girls, I do not care

If I could but enjoy my dear

I'd sit in the factory all the day

And she and I'd keep our shuttles in play

I went to my lover's window last night

She says the moon was shining bright

And such a light came from her clothes

Like the morning star when it first arose



I went to my love's bedroom door

Where I had been oft times before

But I could not speak nor yet get in

To the pleasant bed where my love lay in

The pleasant bed where my love lay in

The pleasant bed where my love lay in



How can you say call it a pleasant bed

When naught lies there but a factory maid?

A factory maid although she be

Blessed be the man who enjoys she

Pleasant thoughts ran in my mind

As I turned down her sheets so fine

And see her two breasts standing so

Like two white hills all covered in snow



I turned down the milk-white sheet

To view her body, so fair and neat

And underneath I did espy

Two pillars of the finest ivory

Beneath those pillars a fountain lay

Which my poor wand'ring eye betrayed

But of all the fountains e'er to be found

I could have wished myself there drowned



Instrumental



The loom goes click, and the loom goes clack

the shuttle flies forward and then flies back

The weaver's so bent that he's like to crack

Where are the girls? I'll tell you plain

The girls have all gone to weave by steam

And if you would find them, you must rise at dawn

And trudge to the mill in the early morn.