Roche Rock

A SONG OF A CORNISH GIANT.—When my wife and I were at Fowey, in 1904, we stayed at the house of Mrs. West, {..} During some conversation about Cornish songs, Mrs. West informed us that there was one particular song that her brother used to sing, in which she thought we might be interested. Acting, gladly enough, on this suggestion, we arranged with Mrs. West for her brother to pay us a visit, and after he had sung it we asked and received permission to commit it to writing. {..} It was called by the name of The Old Cornishman.

In Cornwall there once lived a man,
Though his home I won't vouch for the truth, Sir
But if I am not misinformed.
He didn't live far from Redruth, Sir.
His name was Powicky Powick
Powicky Powicky Powido;
His mouth was so monstrously big,
It was near upon half a mile wide o
Tol de rol etc.

I suppose you have heard of Roach Rock.
Why, with his little finger he'd rock it.
And as for St. Michael his Mount
He could put it in his waistcoat pocket.
One day he fell down in a fit,
And his nose stuck so deep in the ground, Sir,
It made such an uncommon pit
That it's what is [now] calld Dolcoth mine, Sir!
Tol de rol etc.

One day he went down to Penzance
Of provisions to get a fresh stock. Sir,
And if I am not misinformed
He must have passed great Logan Rock, Sir,
Says he, I'll let Cornish folk know
[That] this rock shall not long here abide, Sir,
[So] he tried it to swallow—but oh!
It stuck in his throat and he died, Sir.
Tol de rol, etc.

Now in Cornwall they built a large ship
All out of England to carry him.
In the water they just let him slip—
And that is the way they did bury him.
His head stuck so high above sea,
Trees and grass grew there just as on dry land,
And for what Cornish folk have told me
That is what's called the Great Scilly Island.
Tol de rol, etc.

Here's success to tin, copper, and fish,
And may all his enemies fall, Sir!
Here's success to tin, copper and fish
And success unto one and to all. Sir.

W. W. SKEAT.
Lyme Regis.