The Weaver and the Factory Maid
Steeleye Span Lyrics


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When I was a tailor I carried my bodkin and shears
When I was a weaver I carried my roods and my gear
My temples also, my small clothes and reed in my hand
And wherever I go, here's the jolly bold weaver again

I'm a hand weaver to my trade
I fell in love with a factory maid
And if I could but her favour win
I'd stand beside her and weave by steam

My father to me scornful said
How could you fancy a factory maid
When you could have girls fine and gay
Dressed like unto the Queen of May

As for your fine girls I don't care
If I could but enjoy my dear
I'd stand in the factory all the day
And she and I'd keep our shuttles in play

I went to my love's bedroom door
Where often times I had been before
But I could not speak nor yet get in
The pleasant bed that my love laid in

How can you say it's a pleasant bed
Where nowt lies there but a factory maid?
A factory lass although she be
Blest in the man that enjoys she

O pleasant thoughts come to my mind
As I turn doen the sheets so fine
And I seen her two breasts standing so
Like two white hills all covered with snow

The loom goes click and the loom goes clack
The shuttle flies forward and then flies back
The weaver's so bent that he's like to crack
Such a wearisome trade is the weaver's

The yarn is made into cloth at last
The ends of west they are made quite fast
The weaver's labour are now all past
Such a wearisome trade is the weaver's

Where are the girls I will tell you plain
The girls have gone to weave by steam
And if you'd find them you must rise at dawn
And trudge to the mill in the early morn

When I was a tailor I carried my bodkin and shears
When I was a weaver I carried my roods and my gear




My temples also, my small clothes and reed in my hand
And wherever I go, here's the jolly bold weaver again

Overall Meaning

The song "The Weaver and the Factory Maid" by Steeleye Span tells the story of a hand weaver who falls in love with a factory maid. The weaver describes his trade, the tools he uses, and how he would like to stand beside his love and weave by steam. However, his father scornfully asks how he could fancy a factory maid when he could have girls dressed like the Queen of May. The weaver replies that he doesn't care about those girls and only wants to be with his beloved. He tries to visit her in her bedroom but is unable to get in. The weaver then has pleasant thoughts about his lover's body as he imagines turning down the sheets. The song ends with the weaver reflecting on how the weaver's trade has become wearisome and how the girls have gone to weave by steam.


Line by Line Meaning

When I was a tailor I carried my bodkin and shears
When I used to work as a tailor, I always carried my needle and scissors with me.


When I was a weaver I carried my roods and my gear
When I worked as a weaver, I carried the tools necessary for weaving, such as the loom and its parts.


My temples also, my small clothes and reed in my hand
I also always carried the equipment needed to ensure the proper tension in the threads, as well as my measurement tools and the tool for beating the weft thread into place.


And wherever I go, here's the jolly bold weaver again
Regardless of where I go, I am always proud to be a weaver and will readily establish that fact.


I'm a hand weaver to my trade
I am a skilled weaver who can make cloth by hand.


I fell in love with a factory maid
I've fallen in love with a woman who is employed in a factory.


And if I could but her favour win
If I'm given her preference or love, I will be the happiest man in the world.


I'd stand beside her and weave by steam
If I could be with her, I would abandon weaving by hand and work alongside her using the machine (steam power).


My father to me scornful said
My father expressed derision or contempt towards me.


How could you fancy a factory maid
What is it about a factory worker that would make you like them?


When you could have girls fine and gay
When there are many other women who are more attractive, charming and available.


Dressed like unto the Queen of May
Looking as regal and spectacular as the crown of flowers that the queen wears in May.


As for your fine girls I don't care
I don't want the most beautiful women around; only the one who stole my heart.


If I could but enjoy my dear
If only I could be intimate with my love


I'd stand in the factory all the day
I'd gladly work day and night in the factory if that's what it would take.


And she and I'd keep our shuttles in play
Together we could make sure our work is as smooth and perfect as the shuttle going back and forth.


I went to my love's bedroom door
I went to the door of my sweetheart's bedroom.


Where often times I had been before
I had gone to her room before on occassion


But I could not speak nor yet get in
I could not even say a word or gain entry.


The pleasant bed that my love laid in
The bed that my love slept in was now a comfortable one.


How can you say it's a pleasant bed
Why would you say that it's a comfortable bed?


Where nowt lies there but a factory maid?
When there's nobody to share it with but an ordinary factory worker girl.


A factory lass although she be
Even though she works in a factory, she is still a valuable and worthy person.


Blest in the man that enjoys she
A man would consider it blessed or lucky if she were to accept him.


O pleasant thoughts come to my mind
Oh, how delightful and joyous the thoughts that fill my mind.


As I turn doen the sheets so fine
As I'm smoothing the fine sheets over my bed


And I seen her two breasts standing so
And I see her breasts standing upright


Like two white hills all covered with snow
Like two saw-toothed, white hills covered in snow


The loom goes click and the loom goes clack
The sound of the shuttle when weaving, going in and out, up and down.


The shuttle flies forward and then flies back
The shuttle flies fast in, then flies fast out or back.


The weaver's so bent that he's like to crack
The weaver is so hunched over he could break his back.


Such a wearisome trade is the weaver's
The trade of weaving, which involves long hours of intense labour, is quite exhausting.


The yarn is made into cloth at last
The thread or yarn has been woven into wearable fabric.


The ends of west they are made quite fast
The ends of the fabric are tightly sealed together.


The weaver's labour are now all past
The weaver's work is now finished.


Such a wearisome trade is the weaver's
The work of a weaver is so demanding that it can be tiring


Where are the girls I will tell you plain
Where have all the women gone, you ask me? Well, let me tell you.


The girls have gone to weave by steam
Many of the women have taken up work with the weaving machinery.


And if you'd find them you must rise at dawn
If you're looking for them, you must rise early in the morning.


And trudge to the mill in the early morn
And make your way slowly and reluctantly to the factory at the crack of dawn.




Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS

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Ben - Moderator


on Bonny Moorhen

Hi Stuart, We have corrected the description above.

Stuart Tartan


on Bonny Moorhen

The song Bonny Moorhen by Steeleye Span is a traditional Scottish ballad that tells the story of a bird, the Bonny Moorhen, and its journey through the glen and over the sea. The narrator of the song expresses affection and admiration for the bird and asks others to toast its health when they are out drinking. The Bonny Moorhen is described as having a rainbow of feathers, including blue, which is unusual for a bird, and invites it to come to the narrator. However, in the second verse, the song takes a darker turn as the narrator reveals that the bird has gone over the sea and will not return until the summer. But when it does return, only certain people will know, suggesting that not everyone will be happy about the Bonny Moorhen's return. The third verse introduces a new element to the story, two men named Ronald and Donald who are out on the fen, presumably trying to hunt or harm the bird. The narrator calls for the Bonny Moorhen to come to them for safety. Overall, the song is a mix of admiration for the beauty of nature and a warning about the dangers that can lurk in it. The Bonny Moorhen represents something pure and innocent, but there are those who would try to harm it, and the song is a call to protect it.

This description of the song completely misses the point in every way. It IS NOT about a bird.
It is an allegorical Jacobite-era song about Bonny Prince Charlie (the bonny moorhen). The colours mentioned, for instance, are the colours of the Clan Stuart tartan.

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