Lyrics: Jim Ghedi
Music: Jim Ghedi
The wind between the north and east
Blowed every chill and cold
Or coldly blowed to me at least
My clothes were thin and old
The grass all dropping wet with dew
Low bent their tiny spears
The lowly daisy bended too
More lowly with my tears
Oh luckless youth, to sorrow born
Shun'd son of poverty
The world made gamely, sport and scorn
And grinnin' in for me
Unequaled though my sorrow seems
But great indeed they are
Oh here my sorrows for my stream
You'll find an equal there
The land and Eddings are no more
The pastures too are gone
The greens, the meadows and the moors
Are all cut up and gone
There's scarce a greensward spot remains
And scarce a single tree
All naked are your native plains
And yet are dear to thee
Oh then what trees my banks did crown
What willows flourished here
Hard as the axe that cut them down
Those senseless wretches were
Although their aching hands did wield
The axe that gave the blow
It was them that owned this field
Nor planned it's overthrow
Their foes and mine are lawless foes
But laws themselves they hold
Which clipped winged justice can't oppose
But forced and yields to gold
These are the fools of mine and thee
These all here ruined, planned
Although they never felled a tree
Nor took a tool in hand
So farewell to our common field
There's nothing can be saved
To lay the greens and pastures waste
They dropped into its grave
Reflection pierces deadly keen
While with moral ground we scan
Damned are the changes of the green
So to the life of man