While this hang'd ugly sailing o' packets survives,
Were in very great danger o' losing wor lives.
But it's ne use to tell the unnumber'd disasters
Which happen to 'prentices, workmen, and masters,
On crossing the Tyne i' them sma' sculler boats,
Or ony thing else on the water that floats.
At ony rate, the Chain Brig is a far safer plan,
And would save mony lives—contradict it whe can!
Besides, ye knaw, Geordy, it's easier and better
For the canny folks 'at leaves on the banks o' the water,
To walk straight afore them 'stead o' gaun doon the street,
And when they're iv a hurry running doon a' they meet;
Forbye being kept myest an hour in suspense,
By cairts, that sometimes myek a plague of a fence,
Then the folks are a' stopt, tho' they be iv a hurry.
Now, ye blithe lads o' Shields, let it be a' yor glory,
To get this Chain Brig rear'd on high in the air,
Then we'll hae to soom amang steam-boats ne mair:
Smash their great clumsy wheels! aw like nyen o' their wark,
They once cowpt me owerboard, an' aw was wet to the sark;
But catch me gaun ony mair near them again—
If aw de, say aw divent belang Collingwood Main!
THE COLLIERS' PAY WEEK,
BY HENRY ROBSON.
The Baff-week is o'er—no repining—
Pay-Saturday's swift on the wing;
At length the blithe morning comes shining,
When kelter makes colliers sing.
'Tis Spring, and the weather is cheary,
The birds carol sweet on the spray;
Now coal-working lads, trim and airy,
To Newcastle town hie away.
Those married jog on with their hinnies,
Their canny bairns go by their side;
The daughters keep teazing their minnies
For new cloaths to keep up their pride:
They plead—Easter Sunday does fear them,
For if they've got nothing that's new,
The Crow, spiteful bird, will besmear them;
Oh then, what a sight for to view!
The young men, full blithesome and jolly,
March forward, all decently clad;
Some lilting up "Cut-and-dry, Dolly,"
Some singing "The bonny Pit Lad:"
The pranks that were play'd at last binding
Engage some in humourous chat;
Some halt by the way-side on finding
Primroses to place in their hat.
Bob Cranky, Jack Hogg, and Dick Marley,
Bill Hewitt, Luke Carr, and Tom Brown,
In one jolly squad set off early
From Benwell to Newcastle town:
Such hewers as they (none need doubt it)
Ne'er handled a shovel or pick;
In high or low seam they could suit it,
In regions next door to Old Nick.