Mow Cop 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 I’m passing by that place
The
summerhouse I can’t see o’er.
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
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 Parson’s Well.
