The songs of the Wilsons With a memoir of the Family, and several additional songs never before published. Edited by John Harland |
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THE COUNTRYMAN'S DESCRIPTION OF THE COLLEGIATE CHURCH. |
 | The songs of the Wilsons |  |
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THE COUNTRYMAN'S DESCRIPTION OF THE COLLEGIATE CHURCH.
By Mr Thomas Wilson.
Yo gentlefolk aw, listen unto mea sung,
An' if yo 'll be attentive yo 'll naw think it lung;
For aw bin to a pleck so famed for reneawn,
An' plainly aw 'll tell yo it 's Manchester teawn.
An' if yo 'll be attentive yo 'll naw think it lung;
For aw bin to a pleck so famed for reneawn,
An' plainly aw 'll tell yo it 's Manchester teawn.
Aw went to th' owd church, twurn Sunday i'th' morn,
Don'd eawt i' mea best, an' mea beart wur new shorn;
Sich seets aw theer seed as aw ne'er seed afore,
Boh aw 'll steart a' th' beginnink an' tell um yo o'er.
Don'd eawt i' mea best, an' mea beart wur new shorn;
Sich seets aw theer seed as aw ne'er seed afore,
Boh aw 'll steart a' th' beginnink an' tell um yo o'er.
As aw went in at th' dur, aw pood off my ruff hat,
Folk stared, an' aw thowt they wurn leaughink at tat;
Sich numbers o' ladies an' gentlefolk coom—
They 'd music agate an' aw whistlet to th' tune.
Folk stared, an' aw thowt they wurn leaughink at tat;
Sich numbers o' ladies an' gentlefolk coom—
They 'd music agate an' aw whistlet to th' tune.
They wur men wie big cooats an' a stick i' oytch hond,
They 'rn crossish, an' ordurt some sit an' some stond;
An' whoile aw 'r expectink wi' th' stick a good drub,
A mon in a shurt coom an' geet in a tub.
They 'rn crossish, an' ordurt some sit an' some stond;
An' whoile aw 'r expectink wi' th' stick a good drub,
A mon in a shurt coom an' geet in a tub.
Neaw th' music gan o'er, an' then by mea soul,
A mon in a black shurt, as black as a coal,
Coom an' geet in a tub under him 'ot coom first,
An' wi' leaughink aw thowt i' mea heart aw should burst.
A mon in a black shurt, as black as a coal,
Coom an' geet in a tub under him 'ot coom first,
An' wi' leaughink aw thowt i' mea heart aw should burst.
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So th' mon i' th' white shurt geet on to his feet,
An' towd um aw reawn'd 'ot tey had naw done reight;
He scowlt um, an' griev't um, for sinners deplored,
An' some toimes him i' th' lower tub put in a word.
An' towd um aw reawn'd 'ot tey had naw done reight;
He scowlt um, an' griev't um, for sinners deplored,
An' some toimes him i' th' lower tub put in a word.
White shurt he kept scowlink wi' words so uncivil;
An' mony a toime in his clack he said devil;
At last folk wurn vext, aw could see by their look,
So th' folk, black an' white shurt, aw scowlt of a rook.
An' mony a toime in his clack he said devil;
At last folk wurn vext, aw could see by their look,
So th' folk, black an' white shurt, aw scowlt of a rook.
Till another mon coom the peeas for to make,
An' by th' mass he 'd a hat loike a hardent wood cake;
A mon walk'd afore him, an' carry'd a club,
An' he mounted aloft an geet i' th' top tub.
An' by th' mass he 'd a hat loike a hardent wood cake;
A mon walk'd afore him, an' carry'd a club,
An' he mounted aloft an geet i' th' top tub.
Neaw, as soon as folk seed him they gen o'er their clack,
Aw begun for t' be feart, for he 'd th' club at his back;
Aw th' folk wurn quoite still, for they know'd they'd done wrung,
Boh that mon i' th' black shurt would not howd his tungue.
Aw begun for t' be feart, for he 'd th' club at his back;
Aw th' folk wurn quoite still, for they know'd they'd done wrung,
Boh that mon i' th' black shurt would not howd his tungue.
He towd um some appus Eve stole off a tree,
An' to eat um heaw Adam wi' her did agree;
He towd um how Solomon wur a fause mon;
Boh aw 'm sure they wurn fauser,—ay, mony a one.
An' to eat um heaw Adam wi' her did agree;
He towd um how Solomon wur a fause mon;
Boh aw 'm sure they wurn fauser,—ay, mony a one.
He towd um heaw Moses uset t' preach on a hill,
An' heaw Joshua once made th' sun an' moon to stond still;
Heaw Israel o'er th' sea on dry lond did pass,
An' heaw Samson killt theawsands wi' th' jaw of an ass.
An' heaw Joshua once made th' sun an' moon to stond still;
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An' heaw Samson killt theawsands wi' th' jaw of an ass.
He towd um Methuselam liv't a lung toime,
An' heaw Noah the righteous geet drunkun wi' wine;
He towd um heaw Joseph did live a good loife,
An' heaw king David lee wi' another mon's woife.
An' heaw Noah the righteous geet drunkun wi' wine;
He towd um heaw Joseph did live a good loife,
An' heaw king David lee wi' another mon's woife.
He towd um heaw Baalam's jackass could talk,
An' heaw Lot's woife wurn turn'd to a pillar o' sawt;
He towd um o' mony sich stories besoide,
Boh aw firmly believe i' mea heart 'ot he loied.
An' heaw Lot's woife wurn turn'd to a pillar o' sawt;
He towd um o' mony sich stories besoide,
Boh aw firmly believe i' mea heart 'ot he loied.
He towd um so lung abeawt Owd Nick an' sinners,
Aw begun for to think we mun send for ur dinners;
At last he concluded i' th' name o' the Lord,
Boh that mon i' the black shurt, he would ha' th' last word.
Aw begun for to think we mun send for ur dinners;
At last he concluded i' th' name o' the Lord,
Boh that mon i' the black shurt, he would ha' th' last word.
| The songs of the Wilsons | |