The Thrashing Machine (tune- Villikins and his Dinah)

'Twere way down in Dorset or so I heerd tell
There lived a young maiden and her name it 'twere Nell
Her were fair wide and handsome and sweet seventeen
and her longed for a ride on me thrashing machine

'Twere one summer's morning in the merry month of May
when most of the farmers were out making hay
I cocked up me earholes and heard a girt scream
I says aar there goes Nell on thick thrashing machine.

'Twere one summer's evening in the merry month of June
when most of the farmers were a looking at the moon
I says come to the barn Nell where us won't be seen
and I'll show 'ee the works of me thrashing machine.

I opened the barn door and there stood my dream
her worked on the oil can while I worked up the steam
'twere wondrous to see both the thrust and the drive
and when her come out 'twere more dead than alive.

The flywheels and the pistons were a goin' around
when from out the steam whistle came an 'orrible sound
I puts down me hand for to cut off the steam
but the chaff had been blown from me thrashing machine.

Now nine months later this baby she bore
the pride of his mother he was to be sure
and under his napkin could plainly be seen
a brand new two cylinder thrashing machine.