Читать книгу The Newcastle Song Book; or, Tyne-Side Songster - Various - Страница 34

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Lads! myek a ring,

An' hear huz sing

The sport we had at Swalwell, O;

Wor merry play.

O' the Hoppen day,

Ho'way, marrows! an' aw'll tell ye, O.

The sun shines warm on Whickham bank,

Let's a' lie doon at Dolly's, O;

An' hear 'bout mony a funny prank,

Play'd by the lads at Crowley's, O.

There was Sam, O zoons!

Wiv's pantaloons,

An' gravat up ower his gobby, O;

An' Willy, thou,

Wi' the jacket blue,

Thou was the varry Bobby, O:

There was knack knee'd Mat, wiv's purple suit,

An' hopper-a-s'd Dick, a' yellow, O:

Great Tom was there, wi' H——ple's au'd coat,

An' buck-sheen'd Bob frae Stella, O.

When we wor drest,

It was confest

We shem'd the cheps frae Newcassel, O:

So away we set

To wor toon gyet,

To jeer them a' as they pass'd us, O:

We shouted some, and some dung down;

Lobstrop'lus fellows, we kick'd them, O:

Some culls went hyem, some crush'd to toon,

Some gat aboot by Whickham, O.

The spree com on—

The hat was won

By carrot-pow'd Jenny's Jackey, O:

What a fyace, begok!

Had muckle-mouth'd Jock,

When he twin'd his jaws for the backy, O!

The kilted lasses fell tid, pell mell,

Wi' 'Talli-i-o the grinder,' O—

The smock was gi'en to slavering Nell,

Ye'd dropp'd had ye been behind her, O.

Wor dance began

Wi' buck-tyuth'd Nan,

An' Geordy, thou'd Jen Collin, O;

While the merry Black,

Wi' mony a crack,

Set the tamboureen a rolling, O.

Like wor forge-hammer we bet sae true,

An' shuk Raw's house sae soundly, O:

Tuff canna cum up wi' Crowley's Crew,

Nor thump the tune sae roundly, O.

Then Gyetside Jack,

Wiv's bloody back,

Wad dance wi' goggle-eye'd Mally, O:

But up cam Nick

An' gav him a kick,

And a canny bit kind of a fally, O:

That day a' Hawks's Blacks may rue—

They gat mony a varry sair clanker, O:

Can they de owse wi' Crowley's Crew,

Frev a needle tiv an anchor, O?

What's that to say

To the bonny fray

We had wi' skipper Robin, O?

The keel bullies a',

Byeth greet an' sma',

Myed a b——rly tide o' the hoppen, O.

Gleed Will cried, Ma-a! up lup au'd Frank, An' Robin, that marry'd his dowter, O: We hammer'd their ribs like an anchor shank; They fand it six weeks efter, O.

Bald pyat Jone Carr

Wad hev a bit spar,

To help his marrows away wid, O;

But poor au'd fellow,

He'd getten ower mellow,

So we doon'd byth him and Davy, O:

Then Petticoat Robin jump'd up agyen,

Wiv's gully to marcykree huz a'

But Willanton Dan laid him flat wiv a styen:

Hurrah! for Crowley's Crew, boys, a'!

Their hash was sattled,

So off they rattled,

An' we jigg'd it up sae hearty, O.

Wi' mony a shiver,

An' lowp sae cliver,

Can Newcassel turn out sic a party, O?

When, wheit dyun ower, the fiddlers went,

We stagger'd a hint sae merry, O;

An thro' wor toon, till fairly spent,

Roar'd—Crowley's Crew an' glory, O!