John Thorpe - Refugee

I am a poor immigrant I'm a stateless refugee
I've had to leave my native land in search of liberty
With my family and my comrades I've sailed from Rotterdam
And I've landed at the Port of Tyne in the north of England

Religious persecution was the reason that I ran
A rebel in the eyes of Rome, denied the rights of man
It's 1687 in the year of Our Lord
And there's men here in Newcastle want me to make my swords

My name is Adam Oley I'm a cutler to my trade
And I bear with me the secret of the hollow blade
I vowed an oath of silence and this I'll not betray
I gave my word in Solingnen in the land of Germany

To bring my trade to England in truth I was induced
To arm King James' soldiers with the swords I do produce
The foreign wars are raging and my skills are in demand
There's not a man can match my blades in all of England

So without hesitation I've wandered far and wide
And I've made my home at Shotley Bridge down by the Derwent-side
It's here I'll carry out my trade away from prying eyes
And make my blades the colour of the north-west Durham skies

There's water here to power the forge, the hammers and the mills
There's iron ore from Berry Edge and down to Hownes Gill
I'll build a smelting furnace and I'll dig for grindstone grit
Burn charcoal from the woods around and coal from Chopwell pit

I can't go back to Germany it grieves my heart full-sore
I'll live my life in exile all upon this foreign shore
Likewise my three companions, there's Bertram, Vooz and Mole
May God above, in all his love have mercy on my soul

You'll remember me in years to come down by the river's edge
Above my door in Wood Street you will find a stone-carved pledge
And when my fame has spread afar beyond the valley's ridge
You'll remember Adam Oley making swords at Shotley Bridge

Written by:
John Thorpe

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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