Ammon Wrigley - "A Lancashire Neet"

The following is a transcription of a work by Saddleworth poet Ammon Wrigley (1861-1946).

A Lancashire Neet

A Lancashire neet is the king of o neets
An’ there’s nowt i’ this world as hearty an’ kind,
For it’s full o’ good songs an’ merry owd tales,
That con leeten the heart an’ sweeten the mind;
Nur it isn’t o swagger an’ beauncin’ an’ sham,
It’s a gradely owd fashioned faytherly treat,
An’ it never is dark, it’s summer year reaund,
For th’sun awlus shines on a Lancashire neet.
A Lancashire neet’s like a bowl o’ good broth,
That’s thickened wi’ loaches an’ mellowed wi’ wine,
An’ that is the stuff to the ends of the earth
That macks Lancashire foak o sparkle an’ shine;
Their necks are as red as a feightin cock’s com’,
Their faces like butter are bonnie an’ breet,
An’ they wouldn’t care if the dayleet ne’er coom
If they could live their time in a Lancashire neet.
There’s neets wi’ Shakespeare an’ wi’ Bobby Burns too,
But to me they savwver like wayter fro’ th’ pump,
Aw’d rayther yer Ned tell his Besom Ben tales
An’ Ab oth Yate tell o’er Boggart oth Stump;
Aw care not for theatres nur operas an’ sich,
Where th’ fine wimen gawp an’ try to look sweet,
Aw’d rayther yer Mally o’ Jamie’s o’ Ben's
Sing “Dumplins ith Pon” on a Lancashire neet.
There’s St. Paul’s i? London wi’ pigeons oth top
An’ a grand Heause o’ Lords wi’ marble oth floors,
But they arn’t as nice as owd Pendle Hill side,
Nur as sweet as the wind op o’ Lancashire moors;
Yo’ may tramp fro’ Land’s End to owd John o’ Groat's
An’ wear off the leather yo’ have o’ yer feet,
But you’ll ha’a waste gate if yo’ try to find
Owt that’s as good as Lancashire neet.
Then bring eaut th’ owd fiddle and tune op agen
An’ let’s sing the songs that nobedy con lick,
For there’s no better physic nur Lancashire songs
For keeping foak hearty and merry an’ wick;
This life is a song an’ we’ll sing while we live
An’ then go to heaven like foak that do reet,
An’ if it’s a gradely good heaven wi’st find
Lots o’ foak there havin’ a Lancashire neet.