Off The Ground

Three jolly Farmers         Once bet a pound      Each dance the others would         Off the ground.      Out of their coats         They slipped right soon,      And neat and nicesome         Put each his shoon.      One - Two - Three! -         And away they go,      Not too fast,         And not too slow;      Out from the elm-tree's         Noonday shadow,      Into the sun         And across the meadow.      Past the schoolroom,         With knees well bent      Fingers a-flicking,         They dancing went.      Up sides and over,         And round and round,      They crossed click-clacking,         The Parish bound,      By Tupman's meadow         They did their mile,      Tee-to-tum         On a three-barred stile.      Then straight through Whipham,         Downhill to Week,      Footing it lightsome,         But not too quick,      Up fields to Watchet,         And on through Wye,      Till seven fine churches         They'd seen skip by -      Seven fine churches,         And five old mills,      Farms in the valley,         And sheep on the hills;      Old Man's Acre         And Dead Man's Pool      All left behind,         As they danced through Wool.      And Wool gone by,         Like tops that seem      To spin in sleep         They danced in dream:      Withy - Wellover -         Wassop - Wo -      Like an old clock         Their heels did go.      A league and a league         And a league they went,      And not one weary,         And not one spent.      And lo, and behold!         Past Willow-cum-Leigh      Stretched with its waters         The great green sea.      Says Farmer Bates,         "I puffs and I blows,      What's under the water,         Why, no man knows!"      Says Farmer Giles,         "My wind comes weak,      And a good man drownded         Is far to seek."      But Farmer Turvey,         On twirling toes      Up's with his gaiters,         And in he goes:      Down where the mermaids         Pluck and play      On their twangling harps         In a sea-green day;      Down where the mermaids,         Finned and fair,      Sleek with their combs         Their yellow hair....      Bates and Giles -         On the shingle sat,      Gazing at Turvey's         Floating hat.      But never a ripple         Nor bubble told      Where he was supping         Off plates of gold.      Never an echo         Rilled through the sea      Of the feasting and dancing         And minstrelsy.      They called - called - called:         Came no reply:      Nought but the ripples'         Sandy sigh.      Then glum and silent         They sat instead,      Vacantly brooding         On home and bed,      Till both together         Stood up and said: -      "Us knows not, dreams not,         Where you be,      Turvey, unless         In the deep blue sea;      But excusing silver -         And it comes most willing -      Here's us two paying         Our forty shilling;      For it's sartin sure, Turvey,         Safe and sound,      You danced us square, Turvey,         Off the ground!"