He sed, mi blud begins to boil,
To think ’at we sud work and toil,
And even th’ cattle cannot thoyle
To let us hev a railway.
On hearing this the Haworth foak
Began to think it wur no joak,
An wisht ’at greedy kaa ma choak
’At swallow’d plan o’ th’ railway.
But hasumiver thay gat ower this, an’ wur net long at after afore they hed more disasters, such as tunnils shutterin’, and chapels sinkin’, and law suits, an’ so an, wal Haworthers thout bet hart at both th’ foak an’ th’ grund wur soft daan at Keighla, an’ thretten’d to coam sum o’th’ crookt legg’d ens thair heads if they insinuated; an’ th’ Volunteers thretten’d to tak thair part if thair wur owt to do; an’ farther ner that, they vowed ’at they wur ready to go to war wi’ onny nashun that sud insult awther them or th’ railway under the present difficulties.
For sighs an’ tears an’ doubts an’ fears
Prevails with greatest folly,
For th’ sinagog hez cockt its clog,
An’ th’ parson’s melancholy.
Tunnils sink an’ navvies drink,
An’ chapels are upsetting;
For railway shares nobody cares,
An’ iverybody’s fretting.
The iron horse they curse of course,
An’ fane wud it abondon,
An’ loyer’ fees thair pockets ease,
A thousand pounds i’ Londen.
Misfortunes speed as rank as weed,
An’ puts on such a damper,
Wal th’ foaks declare i’ great despair,
It’s up wi’ th’ iron tramper.
The Volunteers prick up thair ears,
An’ mack a famos rattle;
They want to run to Wimbledon,
Or onny field o’ battle.
Thair black cravats an’ toppen’d hats
Are causin’ grate attraction;
’Gainst Bonepart they want to start,
I’ regular fightin’ action.
The raw recuits hev got thair suits,
Thay brag to one another,
To th’ first campaign thay’l tak th’ train
Without the slightest bother.