Darby-shires Glory.
To the Tune of, I am a Jovial Batchellor.
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OLd England many Countries hath
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of Fame and great Renown;
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But Darbyshire for Wool and Lead
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all others doth put down:
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For Young-men neat,
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And Maids compleat,
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All those that have been there,
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Will boldly swear,
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None can compare
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With famous Darbyshere.
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In Yorkshire it is reported,
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there is store of Bread and Beef;
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And Cheshire, as I hear them say,
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for Men it is the Cheef:
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There's Lancashire aboundeth
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for Fair Women, they say;
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But Darbyshire for Wool and Lead,
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doth bear the Bell away.
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Their Sheep they feed in Pastures good,
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upon the pleasant Plain:
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There is great store of Coals and Wood,
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besides all sorts of Grain.
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And Cloaths most brave
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Likewise they have,
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That is both fresh and fair:
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Which makes, etc.
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In other Countries I have heard tell
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of the Fame of Darby Mault;
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For let them make the best they can,
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they of it come far short.
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It bears the Bell,
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As I have heard tell,
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Of all both far and near;
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Which makes me swear,
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None can compare
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With famous Darby-shire.
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And then such Drink of this same Mault
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the Brewers they do make,
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Will make an old Woman's Tongue to talk,
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and a Cat almost to speak:
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It will do them good,
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And warm their Blood,
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That drinks but of this Beer;
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Which makes me swear,
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None can compare
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With famous Darby-shire.
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The Grovers they do work full hard
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within the Stony Ground,
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(Although with Stones they're debarr'd)
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till they their Ore have found:
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Then with their Prize away they hye
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to take a Glass of Beer:
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Which makes, etc.
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In Darby, which is the Country Town,
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there is a Castle strong;
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Which many an arrant Rogue hath known,
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that hath done his Neighbours wrong.
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And the County Sheriff doth ride in State,
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with Trumpets sounding clear:
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Which makes, etc.
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There is Heafeild Hope, and Tidswal,
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(as I have heard many tell)
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For Fairs and merry Meetings,
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all others doth excell.
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The Young-men and Maids,
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With their Comrades,
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Will Dance and Sing most rare:
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Which makes, etc.
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Their is great Hunting every year,
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not far from Tidswall Town,
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To which brave Gentlemen repair,
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and Men of high Renown:
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To the Moores they're bound,
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With Horse and Hound,
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To chase the nimble Hare:
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Which makes, etc.
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There is the Chappel of Frith likewise,
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it I must not forget:
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There is proper young-Men comes to Town,
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and Maidens very neat:
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Then at the Thorn,
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They're not think scorn,
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To take a Cup of Beer:
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Which makes, etc.
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The Wonders of the World I think,
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at Buxtons may be found;
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While a white pound of Candles burn,
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one may walk under the Ground.
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Then there is Well,
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(As I have heard tell)
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For Vertues very rare:
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Which makes, etc,
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There is Fishing, and there is Fowling,
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likewise at Backwall Town;
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There is Hunting, and there is Bowling
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both up the Hills and down.
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All Recreations lawful and civil,
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they use there;
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Which makes, etc.
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And now my Song for to conclude,
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I here do make an End;
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Sure every one that is not rude,
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will take me for his Friend:
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Then buy then all, both Great and Small,
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the Purchase is not dear,
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When for one Penny you may have
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The Fame of Darby-shere.
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