I niver heerd its name; we call it just "Our beck."
Mebbe, there's bigger streams down Ripon way;
But if thou wants clean watter, by my neck!
Thou'll travel far for cleaner, ony day.
...
Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant;
Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant;
Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant.
Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion;
A soldier's billet at night and a soldier's ration;
A heart that leaps to the fight with a soldier's passion.