Our Beck Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB CDCD EFEF FGFG FHFI JFJF KLKM INOP QRSR TUTU FVFV| I niver heerd its name we call it just Our beck | A |
| Mebbe there's bigger streams down Ripon way | B |
| But if thou wants clean watter by my neck | A |
| Thou'll travel far for cleaner ony day | B |
| - | |
| Clear watter Why when t' sun is up i' t' sky | C |
| I've seen yon flickerin' shadows o' lile trout | D |
| Glidin' ower t' shingly boddom Step thou nigh | C |
| An' gloor at t' minnows dartin' in an' out | D |
| - | |
| Our beck flows straight frae slacks o' moorland peat | E |
| An' gethers sweetness out o' t' ling an' gorse | F |
| At first its voice sounds weantly saft an' leet | E |
| But graws i' strength wi' lowpin ower yon force | F |
| - | |
| Then thou sud see the birds alang its banks | F |
| Grey heronsews that coom to fish at dawn | G |
| Dippers that under t' watter play sike pranks | F |
| An' lang nebbed curlews swaimish as a fawn | G |
| - | |
| Soomtimes I've seen young otters leave their holes | F |
| An' laik like kitlins ower the silver dew | H |
| An' I've watched squirrels climmin' up the boles | F |
| O' beech trees lowpin' leet frae beugh to beugh | I |
| - | |
| Fowers Why thou'd fill thy skep lass in an hour | J |
| Wi' gowlands paigles blobs an' sike like things | F |
| We've daffydills to deck a bridal bower | J |
| Pansies wheer lady cows can dry their wings | F |
| - | |
| Young childer often bathe when t'weather's fine | K |
| Up yonder wheer t' owd miller's bigged his weir | L |
| I like to see their lish nakt bodies shine | K |
| An' watch 'em dive i' t' watter widoot fear | M |
| - | |
| Ay yon's our brig bent like an archer's bow | I |
| It's t' meetin' place o' folk frae near an' far | N |
| Young 'uns coom theer wi' lasses laughin' low | O |
| Owd 'uns to talk o' politics an' t' war | P |
| - | |
| It's daft when chaps that sit i' Parliament | Q |
| Weant tak advice frae lads that talk farm twang | R |
| If t' coontry goes to t' dogs it's 'cause they've sent | S |
| Ower mony city folk to mend what's wrang | R |
| - | |
| They've taen our day tale men to feight for t' land | T |
| Then tell us we mun keep our staggarths full | U |
| What's lasses gauvies greybeards stark i' t' hand | T |
| To strip wer kye an' ploo an' tew wi' t' shool | U |
| - | |
| But theer I'll nurse my threapin' while it rains | F |
| An' while my rheumatiz is bad to bide | V |
| I mun step heamwards now through t' yatts an' lanes | F |
| Wheer t' owd lass waits for me by t' fireside | V |
Frederic William Moorman
(1)
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About Our Beck
Our Beck is a poem by Frederic William Moorman. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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