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Lyr Add: The New Markets II

30 Jul 00 - 01:42 PM (#267935)
Subject: The New Markets II
From: *Conrad Bladey Peasant-Inactive

The New Markets II
Or, Newcastle Improvements.

Believe me now, good foke,what I say is not a joke:
Behold, says cousin Isabel, improvement now is visible,
New buildings you espy, airy, spacious, and high,
And trading chaps are moving round to sell or buy,
When trade was at a stand, and the river chok'd wi' sand,
caus'd the bodies to assemble, the poor to employ;
Then Johnny off packt, up to Lunnon for an act,
And the manager for market-building, Dick's the boy!

Chorus
Then Starkey, blaw your reed, ca' the group a' frae the dead,
Jack Coxan and Cull Billy, Judy Dowling and Blind Willy;
Let the cavalcade move on, with a tune frae Bywell Tom
Take a view o' wor new city, drink, and then return.

When colossus he arose, with his Jachin and his Boaz,
His plans of such utility, of splendour and gentility,
Condenm'd was Tommy Gee, and confirm'd was Tommy B.,
And the measure seem'd to reconcile both friends and foes;
Even butchers' crabbed luiks, wi' their meat on silver huiks,
Drop all former animosities, and strut about wi' jouy;
For the temple of king Solomon, for grandeur, can't follow, man--
All Europe now may shout aloud, that Dick's the boy!

Old houses now beware, how you spoil a street or square,
whatever ground you bide upon, your fate is soon decided on;
For tumble down you must, like a lump of mouldy crust,
And the Major bell will toll your fate, when all is done;
For the rich have fond it out, that a camel, without doubt,
through a needle-eye can't pass without a pilot or a foy;
The money, though conservative, will find a good preservative--
The knights of Leazes Terrace, hinnies, Dick's the boy!

Fine rows of Paphian bowers, for the fruits, and herbs, and flowers,
The baskets stand, so pretty looking--feet and tripe, a' fit for cooking--
Fountains fine and pure, that a cripple they may cure,
And babies may get baptism, for ought you know;
There's a clock to tell the time--but I now must stop my rhime,
For the feasting has begun, and each heart seems big with joy;
Then come, enjoy the treat, wi' your legs upon your feet,
Take off your hats, and shout aloud--Brave Dick's the boy!

W.Midford -In: The Newcastle Song Book or Tyne-Side Songster., W&T Fordyce
Newcastle Upon Tyne.