School: Ros Cré (B.) (roll number 1594)

On this page

1. The Dread Sheriff's Sale

   

   Share Share Post

   T'was an old cot that stood in a square,
   For ninety long years that cot had stood there,
   Surrounded by trees and a fence that was worn,
   T'was the home of my forefathers, there I was born,
   Till misfortune came to us and soon it did tell,
   The Sheriff came in our old home for to sell.
   “Please spare our old home, spare it, I pray
   Don't turn out my mother, so feeble and gray,
   And my loving sister so sickly and frail.
   Auctioneer, auctioneer, won't you please stop the sale”
   But without an avail, the auctioneer continued to cry on the sale.
   The very best bidder was a man quiet unknown
   He paid down his money purchased our home.
   When mother and sister with hearts sad and sore
   Prepared for to leave their own cottage door,
   The stranger spoke up saying, ”your sorrows are o’er,
   I return you your home, for I'm your long lost son”
   Love and rejoicment was there on that day
   When brother embraced my old mother so gray,

   (continues on next page)

   

   Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.

   History Edit

   Topics

   1. genre
      1. poetry
         1. folk poetry (~9,504)

   Language

   English

   Collector

   Philip Heenan

   Gender

   Male

   Informant

   Mrs Heenan

   Gender

   Female