When Omer Smote Is Bloomin Lyre

 When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
 He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he thought 'e might require,
 'E went an' took -- the same as me!

The market-girls an' fishermen,
 The shepherds an' the sailors, too,
They 'eard old songs turn up again,
 But kep' it quiet -- same as you!

They knew 'e stole; 'e knew they knowed.

 They didn't tell, nor make a fuss,
But winked at 'Omer down the road,
 An' 'e winked back -- the same as us!

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