July Wakes by Richard Pomfret
From ‘My North Countrie – An anthology of poetry and prose of the northern counties’ collected and arranged by Wilfred Pickles. George Allen & Unwin Ltd., 1955.
July Wakes
Looms are swept an’ brass is drawn,
An’ me an’ Jack’ll up i’ t’ dawn,
We’ll off bi beg or sell or pawn
For t’ July Wakes!
We’ve sweat for one-an’-fifty week,
An’ human bones like looms’ll creak,
We’re gunna lay on Pendle cheek
An’ stretch eawr limbs.
We’ll roam i’ t’ woods an’ sprawl i’ th’ Hay,
We’ll watch gret cleawds swing up at play,
An’ if they brast we’ll torn thad way
An’ taste cleyn rain!
We’ll follar t’ river up to t’ sky,
We’ll watch wick fishes skimmin’ by,
An’ drink at bruks when throats is dry
– We’ll stan’ up men!
Days’ll flee till Jack, deawncast,
’Ll hearken t’ minnits racin’ past,
An’ t’ buzzer’s moan through t’ linnet’s blast
– To Hell wi’ t’ looms!
Monda’ll see us stood i’ t’ shed,
Shuttles spewin’ eawt their thread,
Weyvin’ fifty-one weeks’ bread
– An’ one o’ Life.