Songs of the Ridings by F. W. (Frederic William) Moorman
page 14 of 70 (20%)
page 14 of 70 (20%)
|
>From Hull, Halifax, and Hell, good Lord deliver us. A Yorkshire Proverb. It's hard when fowks can't finnd their wark Wheer they've bin bred an' born; When I were young I awlus thowt I'd bide 'mong t' roots an' corn. But I've bin forced to work i' towns, So here's my litany: Frae Hull, an' Halifax, an' Hell, Gooid Lord, deliver me! When I were courtin' Mary Ann, T' owd squire, he says one day: "I've got no bield(1) for wedded fowks; Choose, wilt ta wed or stay?" I couldn't gie up t' lass I loved, To t' town we had to flee: Frae Hull, an' Halifax, an' Hell, Gooid Lord, deliver me! I've wrowt i' Leeds an' Huthersfel', An' addled(2) honest brass; I' Bradforth, Keighley, Rotherham, I've kept my barns an' lass. I've travelled all three Ridin's round, And once I went to sea: |
|