The Call to London
Oh! come to London, young lad,
Lots is to be seen!
But he said: ‘I cannot come, maid.
Till the cuckoos all be dumb, maid.
On the hills of green.’
Oh! come to London, brave lad.
Come and leave the plough.
But he said: 'The blackthorn’s springing.
And a mottled thrush is singing
In the cherry bough.’
Oh! come to London, fine lad.
Here’s where money flows.
But he said: 'There’s gold in plenty.
Gold enough and more for twenty.
Where the kingcup grows.’
Oh! come to London, strong lad,
I am wanting you.
But he said: ‘It be a grand sight.
When the stars at midnight
Stretch along the blue.’
Oh! come to London, dear lad,
I am fair to see!
But he said: ‘Along of our way
Trees are thick with white may.
Wonderful they be!’
