With my brush, broom and my rake, with my brush, broom and my rake
See what cleanly work I make
With my hoe, with my hoe, with my hoe and my hoe
And it's sweep, chimney sweep for me
Girls came up to my door I looked black as any Moor
I am constant and true as the day
With a bunch of ribbons gay, with a bunch of ribbons gay
Hanging down by my right knee
And there's no one, and there's no one
And there's no one and no one
And there's no one can call me on high
Arise girls, arise, wipe the sleep from off your eyes
Go and fetch to me some beer that I might swallow
I can climb up to the top, I can climb up to the top
Without a ladder or a rope
And it's there you, and it's there you, and it's there you and there you
And it's there you will hear me “Hullo”
Now here I do stand with my hoe all in my hand
Like some soldier that's on the sentery
I will work for a better sort
And I'll kindly thank them for it
I will work, I will work, I will work and I'll work
And I'll work for none but gentery
*
I saw this sung in what was, I believe, its first public performance; summer 1977, somewhere in deepest Somerset; and done by the Mark 4 line-up of Maddy Prior, Tim Hart, John Kirkpatrick, Rick Kemp and Martin Carthy. (Nigel Pegrum, drums and woodwinds, was probably not singing here.)
It is a wonderfully poignant tune and harmonization, with words expressive of the craft-pride of a 'skilled working man'. For some unidentified reason, this bittersweet song has always evoked in me tears; mixed from joy with sadness at the transience of youth, optimistic vigour, and sheer confidence.
The unaccompanied singing is strong and direct, open-throated; with open-chords and sudden unisons - somehow spanning the generations and evoking a lost era. It is full of excellences from all - but notably underpinned by the solid, crumhorn-like, bass and lead of the incomparable Martin Carthy.
