The refrain is ancient, but the poem itself was composed by Mr. Hawker. This is its earliest form: it afterwards underwent some revision. THE SONG OF THE WESTERN MEN. A good sword and a trusty hand, A merry heart and true, King James’s men shall understand What Cornish lads can do. And have they fixed the where and when, And shall Trelawney die? Then twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why! What! will they scorn Tre, Pol and Pen, And shall Trelawney die? Then twenty thousand underground Will know the reason why! Out spake the captain brave and bold, A merry wight was he: “Though London’s Tower were Michael’s hold, We’ll set Trelawney free. We’ll cross the Tamar hand to hand, The Exe shall be no stay; We’ll side by side, from strand to strand, And who shall bid us nay?” What! will they scorn Tre, Pol and Pen, And shall Trelawney die? Then twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why! And when we come to London Wall, We’ll shout with it in view, “Come forth, come forth, ye cowards all! We’re better men than you! Trelawney, he’s in keep and hold, Trelawney, he may die; But here’s twenty thousand Cornish bold Will know the reason why!” What! will they scorn Tre, Pol and Pen, And shall Trelawney die? Then twenty thousand underground Will know the reason why! The other is a touching little ballad, the lament of a Cornish mother over her dead child; which well illustrates the sympathy which always welled up in the kind vicar’s heart when he met with suffering or sorrow:— They say ’tis a sin to sorrow, That what God doth is best; But ’tis only a month to-morrow I buried it from my breast. I know it should be a pleasure Your child to God to send; But mine was a precious treasure To me and to my poor friend. I thought it would call me mother, The very first words it said: Oh, I never can love another Like the blessed babe that’s dead! Well, God is its own dear Father; It was carried to church, and blessed; And our Saviour’s arms will gather Such children to their rest.