Collier Lass My name's Polly Parker, I come o'er from Worsley My mother and father work down the coal mine Our family is large, we have got seven children So I am obliged to work down that same mine And as this is my fortune I know you'll feel sorry That in such employment my days I must pass But I keep up my spirits, I sing and look cheerful Although I am but a poor collier lass By the greatest of dangers each day I'm surrounded I hang in the air by a rope or a chain The mine may give in; I may be killed or wounded Or perish by damp or the fire of a flame But what would you do if it weren't for our labours In greatest privation your days you would pass For we would provide you with life's greatest blessing So do not despise a poor collier lass All the day long you may say we are buried Deprived of the light and the warmth of the sun And often at night from our beds we are hurried The water is in and barefoot we run And though we go ragged and black are our faces As kind and as free as the best we'll be found And our hearts are more white than your lords' in high places Although we're poor colliers that work underground I'm now growing up fast, somehow or another There's a young collier laddie runs strange in my mind And in spite of the talking of father and mother I think I should marry if he is inclined But should he prove surly and will not befriend me Another and better chance may come to pass And my friends here I know to him will recommend me And I'll be no longer a poor collier lass I heard this from Frankie Armstrong at McCabe's. JN JN
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!