She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye,

And over the hillocks went race-o; And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should,

To tack again each to its place-o.

Tom he was a piper's son,
He learn’d to play when he was young;
But the only tune that he could play
Was “Over the hills and far away.”

Tom with his pipe made such a noise,
He pleased both the girls and boys ;
They'd dance and skip while he did play
“ Over the hills and far away.”

Then Tom he learn'd to play with such skill,
That those who heard him could never keep still
As soon as he play'd they began for to dance,
E'en pigs on their hind legs would after him prance.

And as Dolly was milking her cow one day,
Tom took out his pipe and began for to play ;
Poor Doll and the cow they danced a lilt,
Till her pail it fell down, and the milk it was spilt.

He met with Dame Trot with a basket of eggs,
He used his pipe, and she used her legs;

She danced about till her eggs were all broke,
And Tom he thought 'twas a very, fine joke.

Tom saw a cross fellow beating his ass,
Heavy laden with pots, pans, dishes, and glass ;
He play'd them a jig, and they danced to the tune,
And the jackass's load was lighten'd soon.

Once a dog got a piggy fast hold by the ear,
The piggy squall’d murder, and Tom, being near,
He play'd them a tune, and they didn't dance bad,
Considering the little tuition they'd had.

Tom met with a Farmer in a sad dirty place,
Where he made him to dance (he had so little grace);
He danced in the dirt till he danced in a ditch,
Where he left him in mud as thick as black pitch.

Some little time after Tom slept on some hay,
The very same Farmer was passing that way ;
He took poor Tom's pipe, and bade him prepare
To answer his crimes before the Lord Mayor.