Cambodunum Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Cambodunum is the name of a Roman station situated on a farm at Slack on the hills above Huddersfield	A
	-
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Cambodunum Cambodunum	B
how I love the sound o' t' name	B
Roman sowdiers belt a fort here	C
gave th' owd place its lastin' fame	B
	-
We've bin lords o' Cambodunum	B
for well nigh eight hunderd yeer	C
Fowk say our fore elders	D
bowt it of a Roman charioteer	C
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Ay I know we're nobbut farmers	D
mowin' gerse an' tentin' kye	E
But we're proud of all we've stood for	C
i' yon ages that's gone by	F
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Proud of all the slacks we've drained	A
an' proud of all the walls we've belt	A
Proud to think we've bred our childer	C
on the ground wheer Romans dwelt	A
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Niver pairt wi' Cambodunum	B
that's what father used to say	G
If thou does thou'll coom to ruin	H
beg thy breead thro' day to day	G
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I'll noan pairt wi' Cambodunum	B
though its roof lets in the rains	I
An' its walls wi' age are totterin'	H
Cambodunum's i' my veins	I
	-
Ivery stone about the buildin'	H
has bin dressed by Roman hands	J
An' red blooid o' Roman sowdiers	J
has bin temmed out on its lands	J
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Often when I ploo i' springtime	B
I leet on their buried hoard	A
Coins an' pottery combs an' glasses	J
once I fan' a rusty sword	A
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Whisht I'll tell thee what I saw here	C
of a moon lit winter neet	A
Ghosts o' Romans i' their war gear	C
wheelin' slow wi' silent feet	A
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Pale their faces proud their bearin'	H
an' a strange gloor i' their een	H
As they marched past an' saluted	A
while th' east wind blew snell an' keen	H
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Dalewards dalewards iver dalewards	J
th' hill fowk wander yeer by yeer	C
An' they toss their heeads an' flout me	B
when they see me bidin' here	C
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I've one answer to their fleerin'	H
I'll noan be a fact'ry slave	K
Breathin' poison i' yon wark shops	J
diggin' ivery day my grave	K
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You may addle brass i' plenty	B
you'll noan addle peace o' mind	A
That sal bide amang us farmers	J
on th' owd hills you've left behind	A
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See that place down theer i' t' valley	B
wheer yon chimleys spit out smoke	L
Huthersfield is what they call it	A
wheer fowk live like pigs i' t' poke	L
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Wheer men grind their hearts to guineas	J
an' their mills are awlus thrang	L
Turnin' neet time into day time	B
niver stoppin' th' whole yeer lang	L
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Cambodunum up on th' hill tops	J
Huthersfield down i' yon dale	M
One's a place for free born Britons	J
t'other's ommost like a jail	M
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Here we live i' t' leet an' sunshine	H
free as larks i' t' sky aboon	H
Theer men tew like mowdiwarps	J
that grub up muck by t' glent o' t' moon	H
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See yon motor whizzin' past us	J
ower th' owd brig that spans our beck	L
That's what fowk call modern progress	J
march o' human intelleck	L
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Modern progress modern ruin	H
March o' int'leck march o' fooils	J
All that cooms o' larnin' childer	C
i' their colleges an' schooils	J
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Eddication Sanitation	H
teeming brass reight down a sink	L
Eddication's nowt but muckment	A
sanitation's just a stink	L
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Childer mun have books an' picturs	J
bowt at t' most expensive shops	J
Teliscowps to go star gazin'	H
michaelscowps to look at lops	J
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Farmers munnot put their midden	H
straight afoor their kitchen door	C
Once a week they're set spring cleanin'	H
fettlin' up their shippen floor	C
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Women fowk have taen to knackin'	H
wilent speyk their mother tongue	L
Try to talk like chaps i' t' powpit	A
chicken chisted wake i' t' lung	L
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Some fowk say I'm too owd feshioned	A
mebbe they are tellin' true	C
When you've lived wi' ghosts o' Romans	J
you've no call for owt that's new	C
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Weel I know I san't win t' vict'ry	C
son's agean me dowters wife	N
Yit I'll hold my ground bout flinchin'	C
feight so long as I have life	N
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An' if t' wick uns are agean me	B
I sal feight for them that's deead	A
Roman sowdiers i' their trenches	J
lapped i' mail thro' foot to heead	A
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Here I stand for Cambodunum	B
eagle's nest on t' Pennine hills	J
Wagin' war wi' modern notions	J
carin' nowt for forges mills	J
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Deeath alone sal call surrender	C
stealin' on me wi' his hosts	J
And when Deeath has won his battle	O
I'll go seek my Roman ghosts	J
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Then I'll hear their shout o' welcome	B
Here cooms Bob 'o Dick 'o Joe's	J
Bred an' born at Cambodunum	B
held th'owd fort agean his foes	J
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Fowt for ancient ways an' customs	J
ne'er to feshion bent his knee	B
Oppen t' ranks lads let him enter	C
he's a Roman same as we	B

Frederic William Moorman

Cambodunum Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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