Poetry

Mow Cop It Is A Pleasant Place

Mow Cop it is a pleasant place
The summerhouse stands high.
Those rugged rocks braved many blasts
The clouds float in the sky

And when Iím passing by that place
The summerhouse I canít see oíer.
The year of the Lord when it was built
Was seventeen and fifty four.

Many millstones have been got at Mow
Down in the millstone hole
And now across those smiling fields
At Towerhill they now get coal.

Will Jamieson was but five years old
When out of Scotland brought
And to succeed old Thorley there
No Mow-man would have thought.

Like Nelson on the quarterdeck
Neither good nor bad did hide.
He was the bailiff for Squire Sneyd
Upon the Staffordshire side.

Lady Wilbraham was the lady born
Among women she did excel.
For twenty pounds she did lay down
For the making of the Parsonís Well.