Come, Deavie, I'll tell thee a secret,
But tou mun lock't up i' thee breast,
I wuddn't for aw Dalton parish
It com to the ears o' the rest;
Now I'll hod te a bit of a weager,
A groat to thy tuppens I'll lay,
Tou cannot guess whee I's on luive wi',
And nobbut keep off Sally Gray.
There's Cumwhitton, Cumwhinton, Cumranton,
Cumrangen, Cumrew and Cumcatch,
And mony mair cums i' the county
But nin wi' Cumdivock can match;
It's sae neyce to luik owre the black pasture,
Wi' the fells abuin aw, far away -
There is nee sic pleace, nit in England,
For there lives the sweet Sally Gray.
I was sebenteen last Collup-Monday,
And she's just the varra same yage,
For ae kiss o' the sweet lips o' Sally,
I'd freely give up a year's wage;
For in lang winter neets when she's spinnin'
And singin' about Jemmy Gay,
I keek by the hay-stack, and lissen,
For wain wad I see Sally Gray
[two stanzas omitted (by LEB)]
O wad I but lword o' the manor,
A nabob, or parliament man,
What thousands on thousands I'd gi' her,
Wad she nobbut gi' me her han'.
A cwoach and six horses I'd but her,
And gar fwolk stan' out o' the way,
Then I'd loup up behint like a footman,
O the worl' for my sweet Sally Gray.
They may brag o' their feyne Carel lasses,
Their feathers, their durtment, and leace;
God help them! peer deeth-luikin' bodies,
Widout a bit reed i' their feace.
But Sally's just like allybaster,
Her cheeks are twee rwose-buds in May -
O lad! I cou'd stan' here for ever,
And talk about sweet Sally Gray.
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Source: Lucy Broadwood and J A Fuller Maitland. 1893, English County Songs, Leadenhall Press, London
Lucy Broadwood notes are:
Words by R Anderson, 1802; the tune taken down by Miss Wakefield from an old man in Cumberland.
"Collup Monday", the Monday before Lent.
Roud: 1365 (Search Roud index at VWML) Take Six