i followed in those footprints of those who had gone before
with sounds of gypsy laughter and roses around each door
the heath was full of birdsong you could hear the kids at play
the fields were spread with corn and wheat and the boat was in the bay
the gypsy charmer told me and the poet told his tale
there were stacks out in the meadows and the miller told his yarn
the bells of the church were chiming and the villagers were proud
there were men out in the fields that day when their voices all were loud
the road to bere regis was with heathers spread
where the headless woman was to ride and the coppers all were lent
the forest walks of wareham were deer and rabbit ran
where samways farmer lived on walls and zunners each a gun
there were markets in the streets and a monkey on the quay
the river frome was rich in swans and lovers on a spree
the stoborough walk was narrow and the pump it had run dry
there were locals in the pure drop and a stranger hurried by