There's Mappleton, Mayfield, Okeover and Thorpe, Can furnish some men that nothing can whop, And Bentley and Tissington always in tune, And Clifton and Sturston are ready as soon. Then there's Snelston and Wyaston, Shirley and all, Who all are good men at brave Whittaker's call; And who come to kick at Paul Gettliffe's Foot-Ball, In the neat little town of Ashborne.
The Ball is turn'd up, and the Bull Ring's the place, And as fierce as a bull-dog's is every man's face; Whilst kicking and shouting and howling they run, Until every stitch in the Ball comes undone. There's Faulkner and Smith, Bodge Hand and some more, Who hide it and hug it and kick it so sore, And deserve a good whopping at every man's door In the neat little town of Ashborne.
If they get to the Park the upwards men shout And think all the downwards men put to the rout, But a right about face they soon have to learn, And the upwards men shout and huzza in their turn. Then into Shaw Croft where the bold and the brave, Get a ducking in trying the Foot-Ball to save; For 'tis well known they fear not a watery grave, In defence of the Foot-Ball at Ashborne.
If into Church Street should the Ball take its way, The White Hart and Wheat Sheaf will cause some delay, For from tasting their liquor no man can refrain, Till he rolls like the Foot-Ball in Warin's tear-brain. Then they run and they shout, they bawl and they laugh, They kick and huzza, still the liquor they quaff Till another Foot-Ball has been cut into half, By the unfair players of Ashborne.
The following admirable ballad, the production of the Rev. W. R. Bell, formerly curate of Bakewell, is founded partly on _facts_, and partly on _local traditions_. The unfortunate hero of the story was the Rev. Robert Lomas, Incumbent of Monyash, who was found dead, as described in the ballad, on the 12th of October, 1776. The scene of the ballad comprises the towns of Bakewell and Monyash, and the mountainous country between them, the western part of which--that bordering on Lathkiln and Harlow Dales--being one of the most romantic districts of the Peak. The ballad first appeared in the "Reliquary," in 1864.
The Parson of Monyash, late one eve, Sat in his old oak arm-chair; And a playful flame in the low turf fire Oft-times shewed him sitting there.