1

"Tom Pearce, Tom Pearce, lend me your grey mare,
All along, down along, out along, lee.
For I want for to go to Widdecombe Fair,
Wi' Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan'l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all,"
CHORUS: Old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all.

2

"And when shall I see again my grey mare?"
All along, &c.
"By Friday soon, or Saturday noon,
Wi' Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, &c."

3

Then Friday came, and Saturday noon,
All along, &c.
But Tom Pearce's old mare hath not trotted home,
Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

4

So Tom Pearce he got up to the top o' the hill
All along, &c.
And he seed his old mare down a making her will
Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

5

So Tom Pearce's old mare, her took sick and died.
All along, &c.
And Tom he sat down on a stone, and he cried
Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

6

But this isn't the end o' this shocking affair,
All along, &c.
Nor, though they be dead, of the horrid career
Of Bill Brewer, &c.

7

When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night
All along, &c.
Tom Pearce's old mare doth appear, gashly white,
Wi' Bill Brewer, &c.

8

And all the long night be heard skirling and groans,
All along, &c.
From Tom Pearce's old mare in her rattling bones,
And from Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan'l Whiddon,
Harry Hawk, old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all.
CHORUS: Old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all.