At Melford town, at Melford town, at little grey-roofed Melford town, A long mile from Sudbury, upon the village green, We danced into a merry rout of country-folk that skipt about A hobby-horse, a May-pole, and a laughing white-pot queen.
They thronged about us as we stayed, and there I gave my sunshine maid An English crown for cakes and ale--her dancing was so true! And "Nay," she said, "I danced my mile for love!" I answered with a smile, "'Tis but a silver token, lass, 'thou'st won that wager, too."
I took my leash of morrice-bells, my treble, bass and tenor bells, They pealed like distant marriage-bells! And up came William Bee With Georgie Sprat, my overseer, and Thomas Slye, my tabourer, "Farewell," she laughed, and vanished with a Suffolk courtesie. I leapt away to Rockland, and from Rockland on to Hingham, From Hingham on to Norwich, sirs! I hardly heard a-while The throngs that followed after, with their shouting and their laughter, For a shadow danced beside me, my companion of a mile!
At Norwich, by St. Giles his gate, I entered, and the Mayor in state, With all the rosy knights and squires for twenty miles about, With trumpets and with minstrelsy, was waiting there to welcome me; And, as I skipt into the street, the City raised a shout.
They gave me what I did not seek. I fed on roasted swans a week! They pledged me in their malmsey, and they lined me warm with ale! They sleeked my skin with red-deer pies, and all that runs and swims and flies; But, through the clashing wine-cups, O, I heard her clanking pail.
And, rising from his crimson chair, the worshipful and portly Mayor Bequeathed me forty shillings every year that I should live, With five good angels in my hand that I might drink while I could stand! They gave me golden angels! What I lacked they could not give.
They made Will Kemp, thenceforward, sirs, Freeman of Marchaunt Venturers! They hoped that I would dance again from Norwich up to York; Then they asked me, all together, had I met with right May weather, And they praised my heels of feather, and my heart, my heart of cork.
As I came home by Sudbury, by little red-roofed Sudbury, I waited for my bare-foot maid, among her satin kine! I heard a peal of wedding-bells, of treble, bass and tenor bells: "Ring well," I cried, "this bridal morn! You soon shall ring for mine!"