Th'Owd Verses've T'Dales

(Translation: Traditional Poetry of Yorkshire)

The File-cutter's Lament to Liberty

E. Downing

Nay, I'm moithered, fairly maddled,
What's a "nicker-peck" to do?
My owd brain's a egg that's addled,
Tryin' to see this matter through.

Here's a strappin' young inspector--
Dacent lad he is, an' all--
Says all things mun be correct, or
I shall have to climb the pole.

Says as all my bonny pigeons
As I keep wi' me i' t' shop,
Mun be ta'en to other regions;
Here the law wain't ler 'em stop.

Says as how my little terrier
Mun foind kennellin' elsewheer.
I expect awst have to bury 'er;
Shoo'll rest nowheer else bur here.

Says as I mun wear a appron
Throo my shoulder to my knee;
An' (naa, listen! this puts t' capper on)
Says how cleanly it mun be.

Each ten men mun have a basin,
Fastened, mark you, fixed and sure,
For to wesh ther hands and face in;
Not to throw it aat o' door.

There's to be two ventilators,
In good order and repair;
Us at's short o' beef an' taters,
Has to fatten on fresh air.

Each shop floor mun be substantial-
Concrete, pavement, wood, or brick-
So that water from the branch'll
Keep the dust from lyin' thick.

An' for iv'ry bloomin' stiddie
There's so many cubic feet,
We'st ha' room to play at hiddie
Us at isn't aat i' t' street.

Eh, I can't tell hauf o' t' tottle
Of these Regulations steep;
I expect a suckin'-bottle
Will be t' next we have to keep.

Eh! I know, mun! who knows better?
It's for t' good of all, is this.
Iv'rybody's teed to t' letter,
'Cause o' t' few at's done amiss.

Eytin' leead-dust brings leead-colic,
Sure as mornin' brings the day.
Does te think at iver I'll lick
Thumb and fingers' dirt away?

Well, good-bye, my good owd beauty--
Liberty, naa left to few!
Since the common-weal's my duty,
Dear owd Liberty--adieu!