Baring-Gould heard this sung by Sam Fone of Mary Tavy. It is a version of Jack Hall, a song about a burglar executed in 1701. It was included in the repertoire of a singer called Ross in the 1850s and its popularity was such that it became part of the repertoire of many country singers. Sam Fone’s take on it is, though, quite distinct from other collected versions

 

O my name it is Lank Hall

Chimley sweep! chimley sweep

What wi' troubles great and small

My sweet life must pay for all

Chimley sweep!

 

I furnished all my rooms

Every one! every one!

With good brushes, mops and brooms

Aye and scented with perfumes

Which I stole

 

I made candles short of weight

That's no joke! that's no joke!

And they popped me in the clink

Every one must pay his whack

So must I

 

O they threw me into gaol

Poor I! poor I

Where I drank no more white ale

But must grow more wan and pale

Till I die

 

They drew me up Tyburn Hill

In a cart, in a cart

To St Sepulchre's loud knell

And ‘twas there I made my will

Sad at heart!

 

O as I went in the cart

Poor I! poor I!

The tear in eye did start

The best friends they must part

Fare ye well!

 

As I mounted without hope

Looking roun'! looking roun'!

The hangman tied the rope

Not a deuce o' word I spoke

Coming down!