Dawlish Fair
Over
the
hill
and
over
the
dale,
And
over
the
bourn
to
Dawlish--
Where
gingerbread
wives
have
a
scanty
sale
And
gingerbread
nuts
are
smallish.
-------------
Rantipole
Betty
she
ran
down
a
hill
And
kicked
up
her
petticoats
fairly;
Says
I
I'll
be
Jack
if
you
will
be
Gill--
So
she
sat
on
the
grass
debonairly.
Here's
somebody
coming,
here's
somebody
coming!
Says
I
'tis
the
wind
at
a
parley;
So
without
any
fuss
any
hawing
and
humming
She
lay
on
the
grass
debonairly.
Here's
somebody
here
and
here's
somebody
there!
Says
I
hold
your
tongue
you
young
Gipsey;
So
she
held
her
tongue
and
lay
plump
and
fair
And
dead
as
a
Venus
tipsy.
O
who
wouldn't
hie
to
Dawlish
fair,
O
who
wouldn't
stop
in
a
Meadow,
O
who
would
not
rumple
the
daisies
there
And
make
the
wild
fern
for
a
bed
do!
