These words were composed by Spencer the Rover
Who had travelled most parts of Great Britain and Wales.
He had been so reduced which caused great confusion
And that was the reason he went on the roam.
In Yorkshire near Rotherham, he had been on his rambles,
Being weary of travelling he sat himself down.
At the foot of yonder mountain there runs a clear fountain
With bread and cold water, he himself did refresh.
It tasted more sweeter than the gold he had squandered,
More sweeter than honey and gave more content.
But the thoughts of his babies lamenting their father
Brought tears to his eyes and caused him to lament.
The night fast approaching to the woods he resorted,
With woodbine and ivy his bed for to make.
There he dreamt about sighing lamenting and crying,
Go home to your family and rambling forsake.
On the fifth of November, I've a reason to remember,
When first he arrived at his family's front door.
They stood so surprised when first he arrived
To behold such a stranger once more in their sight.
His children came around him
With their prittle-prattling stories,
With their prittle-prattling stories to drive care away.
Now they are united like birds of one feather,
Like bees in one hive contented they'll be,
Contended they'll be and go rambling no more
Learned from the Copper Family of Rottingdean who sing so kindly the healing power of nature