Ammon Wrigley - "To a Southern Friend"

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

To a Southern Friend

You tell me down in Hereford on a spring-time morn,
If I’ve not seen the orchards I know not I’ve been born;
The long white miles of blossom, the April scented air,
If I know not Hereford I know not England’s fair.
You tell me down in Devonshire that life is just a dream
Of song and bloom and sunshine and apple wine and cream;
But you may sing their praises with honey in your mouth,
I wouldn’t change our winter for summer in the south.
Your south is like a lady in silken gown and lace,
With dainty airs and graces and powder on her face,
My north’s a hearty woman and merry as a lark,
And always up and doing from early morn till dark.
Come out along the hilltops and stretch your legs with me
Where northern winds are longing to blow the dust off thee;
Give me the gipsy moorland in ragged heather shawl,
And you keep your Hereford and Devonshire and all.