Lord GeorgeThese verses were written soon after the Old Age Pensions Bill came into operation.I’d walk frae here to Skipton,Ten mile o’ clarty[1]lanes,If I might see him face to faceAn’ thank him for his pains.He’s ta’en me out o’ t’ Bastile,[2]He’s gi’en me life that’s free:Five shill’n a week for fuglin’[3]DeathIs what Lord George gives me.He gives me leet an’ firin’,An’ flour to bak i’ t’ yoon.[4]I’ve tea to mesh for ivery mealAn’ sup all t’ afternoon.I’ve nowt to do but thank him,An’ mak’ a cross wi’ t’ pen;Five shillin’ a week for nobbut that!Gow! he’s the jewel o’ men.I niver mell on pol’tics,But I do love a lord;He spends his savin’s like a king,Wheer other fowks ’ll hoard.I know a vast o’ widdiesThat’s seen their seventieth year;Lord George, he addles brass for all,Though lots on ’t goes for beer.If my owd man were livin’,He’d say as I spak true;He couldn’t thole them yallow Rads,But awlus voted blue.An’ parson’s wife, shoo telled meThat we’ll sooin go to t’ poll;I hope shoo’s reight; I’ll vote for George,Wi’ all my heart an’ soul.I don’t know wheer he springs frae,Happen it’s down Leeds way;But ivery neet an’ mornin’For his lang life I pray.He’s ta’en me out o’ t’ Bastile,He’s gi’en me life that’s free:Five shill’n a week for fuglin’ DeathIs what Lord George gives me.[1]Muddy.[2]Workhouse.[3]Cheating.[4]Oven.
These verses were written soon after the Old Age Pensions Bill came into operation.
I’d walk frae here to Skipton,Ten mile o’ clarty[1]lanes,If I might see him face to faceAn’ thank him for his pains.He’s ta’en me out o’ t’ Bastile,[2]He’s gi’en me life that’s free:Five shill’n a week for fuglin’[3]DeathIs what Lord George gives me.He gives me leet an’ firin’,An’ flour to bak i’ t’ yoon.[4]I’ve tea to mesh for ivery mealAn’ sup all t’ afternoon.I’ve nowt to do but thank him,An’ mak’ a cross wi’ t’ pen;Five shillin’ a week for nobbut that!Gow! he’s the jewel o’ men.I niver mell on pol’tics,But I do love a lord;He spends his savin’s like a king,Wheer other fowks ’ll hoard.I know a vast o’ widdiesThat’s seen their seventieth year;Lord George, he addles brass for all,Though lots on ’t goes for beer.If my owd man were livin’,He’d say as I spak true;He couldn’t thole them yallow Rads,But awlus voted blue.An’ parson’s wife, shoo telled meThat we’ll sooin go to t’ poll;I hope shoo’s reight; I’ll vote for George,Wi’ all my heart an’ soul.I don’t know wheer he springs frae,Happen it’s down Leeds way;But ivery neet an’ mornin’For his lang life I pray.He’s ta’en me out o’ t’ Bastile,He’s gi’en me life that’s free:Five shill’n a week for fuglin’ DeathIs what Lord George gives me.
[1]Muddy.
[2]Workhouse.
[3]Cheating.
[4]Oven.