These words were composed by Thomas the Rhymer
Who travelled through Scotland, through France and through Spain
He had been once recruited by a Sergeant of Marlborough
And he never once thought he would see home again.
On the banks of the Claudy he had met his fair Ellinor
Who told him she would dress in a soldier's attire
And go follow after Lord Bateman to Turkey
So he went courting Nancy - she's the girl I admire.
In Yorkshire near Rotherham there is no bloody mountain
So where on God's earth did old Spencer find rest?
There was no fountain either, no cheese or cold water,
So he thought of his true love and her lily-white breast.
If he were a dove, or a crow, or a blackbird,
He'd soon track her down on her sea-going quest;
He'd soon spot the captain all dressed in his finery
And hover above him - you can picture the rest!
But he was no dove, nor a crow, nor a blackbird,
So upon his two feet he so doggedly went,
He thought of his home and his wife and his children,
In the north, so he turned round and headed for Kent.
And that's how he came to be walking in Rochester,
Where the Sergeant of Malborough was marching so plain,
He boldly stepped up to this dashing recruiter,
"I'm Thomas." "Not you, bloody Rhymer, again!"
[TUNE]