Posted by judith on January 05, 19104 at 20:05:17:

In Reply to: Re: the ballad of turpin posted by Jean Beatty on April 10, 19103 at 12:21:41:

We learnt this poem 30 years ago but this is all
I can remember...by the way your silly US censor wont let me submit Mr Turpins first name!

The daylight moon looked quietly down,
Through the gathering dusk on London Town.
A smock-frocked yokel hobbled along,
From Newgate humming a country song.
Chewing a straw he stood to stare
At the proclomation posted there.
Three hundred guineas upon Turpin's head
Trap him alive or shoot him dead
And a hundred more for his mate Tom King.
He crouched like a tiger about to spring..
Then he looked up and he looked down
And chuckling,low, like a country clown
D--- Turpin painfully hobbled away
In quest of his innThe Load of hay.

Alone in her stable his mare black bess
Lifted her head in mute distress
for five strange men had entered the yard
And looked at her long and looked at her hard
And then they went out muttereing under their breath
and then the night drew still as death
………………..

A smock frocked yokel hobbling slow
But a fight is physique as all men know
His age dropped off, he stood upright
and leapt like a tiger into the fight

It was King, Tom King, D--- Turpins Mate
The Black mare whinnied too late too late

Follow Ups:

• Re: the ballad of turpin kevin 08:48:12 9/29/104 (1)
  • Re: the ballad of turpin - i must correct kevin 02:08:27 11/05/104 (0)

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