This tune was composed by Spencer the Rover
As valiant a man as ever left home
And he had been much reduced
Which caused great confusion
And that was the reason he started to roam

In Yorkshire near Rotherham, he had been on the ramble
Weary of travelling, he sat down to rest
By the foot of yon’ mountain
Lays a clear flowing fountain
With bread and cold water, he himself did refresh

With the night fast approaching, to the woods he resorted
With wood, vine and ivy his bed for to make
But he dreamt about sighing
Lamenting and crying
Go home to your family and rambling forsake

Twas the fifth day of November, I’ve reason to remember
When first he arrived home to his family and friends
And they did stand so astounded
Surprised and dumbfounded
To see such a stranger once more in their sight

And his children come around him with their prittle prattling stories
With their prittle prattling stories to drive care away
And he’s as happy as those
As have thousands of riches
Contented, he’ll remain and not ramble away

This tune was composed by Spencer the Rover
As valiant a man as ever left home
And he had been much reduced
And caused great confusion
And that was the reason he started to roam