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Owd Fashion't Lankysher Song

from the 1928 Stalybridge Handbook James Moulton Parry, of Victoria Road, Newton Wood, who died May 23rd, 1926, at the age of 44, was a well-known writer, and was born in Newton Wood. He was versatile in his writing. He wrote:-

"Oh, take me where the heather blooms,

Beneath the smiling sky,

For when the breath of summer comes

I feel I cannot die;

My soul is yearning for the hills

And far-off meadows green,

And such a longing through me thrills

To tread those paths again."

I much prefer his 'Owd fashion't Lankysher Song":-

"Mid th' turmoil an' strife o' mi wark-a-day life,

Aw oft-time feel deawncast an' sad;

When th' sky's noan so clear, an' when poverty's near,

It's a difficult task for 't' be glad.

But ther's one thing aw know, 'mid keen sorrow an' woe,

That'll bear mi frail spirit along,

'Tis to croon an' to sing, like a bird upo' th' wing,

Some owd-fashion't Lankysher song.

My feyther onct sung 'em while warkin his loom,

I' th' cottage wheerin aw were born;

An' his joyous owd voice seemt' mek th' whole pleck rejoice

Loike a layrock at th' breikin' o' morn.

Thoose were times o' greit joy all unmixed wi alloy,-

(We'd be fain eaur young days to prolong),

An' aw feel young again, when aw list to th' refrain

Ov some owd-fashion't Lankysher song.

Yo' con speik o' yore Lorryet's fine classic verse,

An' laud 'em for weavin' the'r lays,-

I' honour o' th' great, or for th' Kingdom an' State,

It's a popular theme,-an' it pays!

They're mooar famous nor me, but aw'd rayther be free

To lilt i' mi own whoamly tongue,

An' it pleeoses me best-far above th' rest,-

For't sing an owd Lankysher song."

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