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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


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.

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