Oh, we came up from Somerset,
To see the Great Revue,
There was Mary drest in her Sunday best,
And our boy Billee too.
The drums were rolling rub-a-dub,
The trumpets tooting too,
When right up rode His Majesty,
An’ says, “An’ who be you?”

“Oh, we’m come up from Somerset,
Where the cider apples grow,
We’m come to see Your Majesty,
An’ how the world do go,
And when you’re wanting anyone,
If you’ll kindly let us know,
We’ll all come up from Somerset,
Because we loves you so!”

Then the queen she looked at Mary,
“An’ what’s your name?” she said,
But Mary blush’d like any rose,
An’ hung her pretty head.
So I ups and nudges Mary,
“Speak up an’ tell her do!”
So she said, “If you please, Your Majesty,
My name is Mary too!”

“An, we’m come up from Somerset,
Where the cider apples grow,
Where the gals can hem, an’ sew, an’ stitch,
And also reap and hoe.
An’ if you’re wanting any gals,
An’ will kindly let us know,
We’ll all come up from Somerset,
Because we loves you so!”

Then the king looked down at Billee-boy,
Before they rode away,
“An what is he going for to be?”
His Majesty did say,
So Billee pulled his forelock,
An’ stood up trim and true,
“Oh, I’m goin’ to be a soldier, Sir,
For I wants to fight for you!”

“For we’m come up from Somerset,
Where the cider apples grow,
For we’re all King’s men in Somerset,
As they were long, long ago,
An’ when you’re wanting soger boys,
An there’s fighting for to do,
You just send word to Somerset,
An’ well all be up for you!”