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Songs of the Ridings

Chapter 6: The Two Lamplighters
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About This Book

The collection contains twenty-five dialect poems, mainly dramatic monologues and character sketches that portray Yorkshire peasants, artisans, and farmers. Using local speech and rural scenes—farm work, hearthside gatherings, lamplighters, and seasonal customs—the verses evoke community life, regional pride, and anxieties about education and social change. The poems aim to make poetry accessible to working people by preserving local voice and rendering individual psychology through plain, dramatic address, showing both affectionate observation and critical reflection.

The Two Lamplighters

I niver thowt when I grew owd
    I’d tak to leetin’ lamps;
I sud have said, I’d rayther pad
    My hoof on t’ road wi’ tramps.
But sin I gate that skelp
[1] i’ t’ mine,
    I’m wankle[2] i’ my heead;
So gaffer said, I’d give ower wark
    An’ leet town lamps atsteead.

At first, when I were liggin’ snug
    I’ bed, warm as a bee,
’T were hard to rise and get agate
    As sooin as t’ clock strake three.
An’ I were flaid to hear my steps
    Echoin’ on ivery wall;
An’ flaider yet when down by t’ church
    Ullets would skreek and call.

But now I’m flaid o’ nowt; I love
    All unkerd[3] sounds o’ t’ neet,
Frae childer talkin’ i’ their dreams
    To t’ tramp o’ p’licemen’ feet.
But most of all I love to hark
    To t’ song o’ t’ birds at dawn;
They wakken up afore it gloams,
    When t’ dew ligs thick on t’ lawn.

If I feel lonesome, up I look
    To t’ sky aboon my heead;
An’ theer’s yon stars all glestrin’ breet,
    Like daisies in a mead.
But sometimes, when I’m glowerin’ up,
    I see the Lord hissen;
He’s doutin’ all yon lamps o’ Heaven
    That shines on mortal men.

He lowps alang frae star to star,
    As cobby[4] as can be;
Mebbe He reckons fowk’s asleep,
    Wi’ niver an eye to see.
But I hae catched Him at his wark,
    For all He maks no din;
He leaves a track o’ powder’d gowd[5]
    To show where He has bin.

He’s got big lamps an’ laatle lamps,
    An’ lamps that twinkles red;
Im capped to see Him dout ’em all
    Afore I’m back i’ bed.
But He don’t laik about His wark,
    Or stop to hark to t’ birds;
He minds His business, does the Lord,
    An’ wastes no gaumless words.

I grow more like Him ivery day,
    For all I walk so lame;
An’, happen, there will coom a time
    I’ll beat Him at His game.
Thrang as Throp’s wife, I’ll dout my lamps
    Afore He’s gotten so far;
An’ then I’ll shout—“I’ve won my race,
    I’ve bet Him by a star.”

[1] Blow.

[2] Unsteady.

[3] Strange, eerie.

[4] Active.

[5] The Milky Way.