Here's the rest of the song, from The Folklore of Staffordshire by Jon Raven (Totowa, N.J.: Rowman and Littlefield, 1978), page 163:


There are forty shires that light their fires,
And bless the iron strong,
And the china bake the potters make,
As they sing the Stafford song.

We come of a race of yeomen bold,
Whose drink is the best of beer;
Our fields feed beasts for the Christmas feast
And you may share our (Staffordshire) cheer.

We marshal our ranks on the grey pit banks
And our lads on the football field,
If the cause be right, we are game to fight,
We never were known to yield.