poet joseph skipsey
MY lad he is a Collier Lad, And ere the lark awakes, He's up and away to spend the day Where daylight never breaks; But when at last the day has pass'd, Clean washed and cleanly clad, He courts his Nell who loveth well Her handsome Collier Lad. Chorus—There's not his match in smoky Shields; Newcastle never had A lad more tight, more trim, nor bright Than is my Collier Lad. Tho' doomed to labour under ground, A merry lad is be; And when a holiday comes round, He'll spend that day in glee; He'll tell his tale o'er a pint of ale, And crack his joke, and bad Must be the heart who loveth not To hear the Collier Lad. At bowling matches on the green He ever takes the lead, For none can swing his arm and fling With such a pith and speed: His bowl is seen to skim the green, And bound as if right glad To hear the cry of victory Salute the Collier Lad. When 'gainst the wall they play the ball, He's never known to lag, But up and down he gars it bound, Till all his rivals fag; When deftly—lo! he strikes a blow Which gars them all look sad, And wonder how it came to pass They play'd the Collier Lad. The quoits are out, the hobs are fix'd, The first round quoit he flings Enrings the hob; and lo! the next The hob again enrings; And thus he'll play the summer day, The theme of those who gad; And youngsters shrink to bet their brass Against the Collier Lad. When in the dance he doth advance, The rest all sigh to see How he can spring and kick his heels, When they a-wearied be; Your one-two-three, with either knee He'll beat, and then, glee-mad, A heel-o'er-head leap crowns the dance Danced by the Collier Lad. Besides a will and pith and skill, My laddie owns a heart That never once would suffer him To act a cruel part; That to the poor would ope the door To share the last he had; And many a secret blessing's pour'd Upon my Collier Lad. He seldom goes to church, I own, And when he does, why then, He with a leer will sit and hear, And doubt the holy men; This very much annoys my heart; But soon as we are wed, To please the priest, I'll do my best To tame my Collier Lad. |
