Up from Somerset (Parlour Songs)

Oh, we come up from Somerset, To see the Great Review; There was Mary drest in her Sunday best, And our boy Billee too. The drums were rolling rub-a-dub, The trumpets tootled too, When right up rode His Majesty, An' says 'An who be you?'

'Oh, we'm come up from Somerset, Where the cider apples grow, We'm come to see your Majesty, An' how the world do go. And when you're wanting anyone, If you'll kindly let us know, We'll all come up from Somerset, Because we loves you so!'

Then the Queen she look'd at Mary, 'An' what's your name?' she said, But Mary blush'd like any rose, An' hung her pretty head. So 1 ups and nudges Mary, 'Speak up and tell her, do!' So she said 'If it please, your Majesty, My name is Mary too!

An' we'm come up from Somerset, Where the cider apples grow, Where the gals can hem an' sew an' stitch, And also reap and hoe, An' if you're wanting any gals, An' will kindly let us know, We'll all come from Somerset, Because we loves you so!'

Then the King look'd down at Billee-boy, Before they rode away, 'An' what is he going for to be?' His Majesty did say. So Billee pull'd his forelock, And stood up trim and true, 'Oh, I'm going to be a soldier, Sir, For I wants to fight for you!

For we'm come up from Somerset, Where the cider apples grow, For we're all King's men in Somerset, As they were long, long ago, An' when you're wanting soldier boys, An' there's fighting for to do, You just send word to Somerset, An' we'll all be up for you!'