Pretty Polly Poem by Bill Wright

I am a weary weaver
Working at our local mill
Twelve hours a day I sweat
Oh why am I here still?

If it were not for Pretty Polly
My sweetheart, and I'm her Beau
If it were not for her
Then out that door I'd go.

Weaving is exhausting work
Poor Polly finds it hard
But we enjoy what time we can
Chatting in the yard

We do not earn so very much
Our prospects are not good
But at least we have each other
And just enough for food.

Marriage is the dream we have
A place to call our own
To live happy ever after
In our own wee home.