Four Loom Weaver
Folk singers Maddy Prior and June Tabor perform Four Loom Weaver from the album Silly Sisters.
Four Loom Weaver
Karen Casey
Distant Shore
Chorus (after each verse):
I’m a four loom weaver as many a man knows
Nowt to eat and I’ve worn out my clothes
Clogs are both broken and stockings I’ve none
Hardly give me tuppence for all I’ve got on
Old Billy at Bent, he kept telling me long
We might have better times if I’d but held my tongue
I holded my tongue ’til I near lost my breath
And I feel in my heart that I’ll soon starve to death
We held out for six weeks, thought each day was the last
We tarried and shifted ’til now we’re quite fast
We lived upon nettles when nettles were good
Waterloo Porridge was best of our food
Our Margaret declares if she’d clothes to put on
She’d go up to London and see the great man
Things didn’t alter when there she had been
She swears she’ll fight with blood up to thine
I’m a four loom weaver as many a man knows
Nowt to eat and I’ve worn out my clothes
Stockings I’ve none and no looms to weave on
I’ve woven myself to the far end…
The Four Loom Weaver – Lyrics
(Becket Whitehead’s version of The Poor Cotton Weaver)
I’m a four loom weaver, as many a man knows,
I’ve nowt to eat and I’ve worn out m’ clothes
M’ clogs are all broken, and stockings I’ve none.
Thee’d hardly gi’s tuppence for all I’ve gotten on.
Old Billy O’ Bent, he were telling us long
We mayn’t had better times if I’d nobbut held m’ tongue.
Well, I held m’ tongue til I near lost m’ breath,
And I feel in m’ hear that I’II soon clem to death
I’m a four loom weaver, as many a man knows.
I’ve nowt to eat and I’ve worn out m’ clothes.
Old Billy were right, but he ne’er were clemmed,
He ne’er picked o’er in his liie.
We held out for six weeks, thought each day were the last.
We tarried and shifted til we were quite fast.
We lived upon nettles while nettles were good.
And Waterloo Porridge were best to us (as) food.
Our Margaret declares, if hoo’d clothes to put on,
Hoo’d go up t’ London and see the great man
And if things didn’ alter when there hoo’d been
Hoo’ swears hoo’d fight til there blood up to th’ e’en.
I’m a four loom weaver as many a man knows.
I’ve nowt to eat and I’ve worn out m’ clothes
Stockings I’ve none, nor looms to weave on,
I’ve woven m’sen to far end.
Note: clem – starve; hoo’d – she’d
Further Note: This is a subset (6 out of ten verses) of a 19th Century
broadside titled John O’ Grinfield.
Recorded by Killen, Gallant Lads are We; also MacColl
EBay Watch: Weaving Looms
