The Market Song Lyrics

On a fine evening fair in the month of April
O'er the hill came the sun with a smile
And the folks they were throngin' the roads everywhere
Makin' haste to be in at Copshawholme Fair
I've seen 'em a-comin' in from the mountains and glens
Those rosy-faced lasses and strappin' young men
With a joy in their heart and unburdened o' care
A-meetin' old friends at Copshawholme Fair

Who ever joined our gathering and danced
Under the garlands green will never be the same again
Now rest your head and stay a while and dwell with us the summers night
And you'll never be the same again

There are lads for the lasses, there's toys for the bairns
There are jugglers and tumblers and folks with no arms
There's a ballad-singer here and a fiddler there
There are nut-men and spice-men at Copshawholme Fair
There are peddlers and potters and gingerbread stands
There are peepshows and popping-darts and the green caravans
There's fruits from all nations exhibited there
With kale plants from Orange at Copshawholme Fair

You came a long way, you travelled for so long
Now rest your head before the summers gone
Meet us in the sunny fields, meet us in the greenwood deep
Step in our faerie ring and you'll never be the same again

When the hirin's o'er, off they all sprang
Into the ballroom for to join in the throng
And ?I never will lie with my mammy nae mair?
The fiddles play briskly at Copshawholme Fair