Th'Owd Verses've T'Dales

(Translation: Traditional Poetry of Yorkshire)

Sheffield Cutler's Song

Abel Bywater

Coom all you cutlin' heroes, where'ersome'er you be,
All you what works at flat-backs, coom listen unto me;
A basketful for a shillin',
To mak 'em we are willin',
Or swap 'em for red herrin's, aar bellies to be fillin',
Or swap 'em for red herrin's, aar bellies to be fillin'.

A baskitful o' flat-backs, I'm sure we'll mak, or more,
To ger reight into t' gallery, wheer we can rant an' roar,
Throw flat-backs, stones an' sticks,
Red herrin's, bones an' bricks,
If they don't play "Nancy's fancy," or onny tune we fix,
We'll do the best at e'er we can to break some o' their necks.

Hey! Jont, lad, where art ta waddlin' to?
Does ta work at flat-backs yit, as tha's been used to do?
Ha! coom, an' tha' s go wi' me,
An' a sample I will gie thee,
It's one at I've just forged upon Geoffry's bran-new stiddy.
Look at it well, it does excel all t' flat-backs i' aar smithy.

Let's send for a pitcher o' ale, lad, for I'm gerrin' varry droy,
I'm ommost chok'd wi' smithy sleck, the wind it is so hoigh.
Gie Rafe an' Jer a drop,
They sen they cannot stop,
They're i' sich a moighty hurry to get to t' penny hop,
They're i' sich a moighty hurry to get to t' penny hop.

Here's Steem at lives at Heeley, he'll soon be here, I knaw,
He's larnt a new maccaroni step, the best you iver saw;
He has it so complete,
He troies up ivery street,
An' ommost breaks all t' pavors wi' swattin' daan his feet.
An' Anak troies to beat him, wheniver they doon meet.

We'll raise a tail by Sunda, Steem; I knaw who's one to sell,
We'll tee a hammer heead at t' end to mak it balance well.
It's a reight new Lunnon tail,
We'll wear it kale for kale,
Aar Anak browt it wi' him, that neet he coom by t' mail.
We'll drink success unto it--hey! Tout, lad, teem aat t' ale.