Works

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...

A song I sing o' t' Yorkshire dales,
That winnd frae t' moors to t' sea;
Frae t' breast o' t' fells, wheer t' cloud-rack sails,
Their becks flow merrily.
Their banks are breet wi' moss an' broom,...

The Lord's bin hard on me, Sir,
He's stown my barn away.
O dowly, dowly was that neet
He stole lile Doad away!

'Twas Whissuntide we wedded,
Next Easter he was born,...