Sent and translated from
broad potteries dialect by Terry Williams
Old Man of Mow
Come with me, and you shall see
A grand old man, as grand as he can be.
He sits up at the top, of what's called Mow Cop
How long he's been there I haven't the slighest idea.
Whatever the weather he doesn't complain
Be it sunshine or snow, hail, wind or rain.
Whatever happens he just doesn't mind,
He's as patient as any old man you can find.
Up at the top of his head he's getting a crown
And his skulls' just a match, withered and brown
In his waistcoat, oh, that's just a good fit,
And his his swall tail coat he looks just it.
His knee's are bent back right under his bum,
You'll see what I mean if close to him you come.
Thousand of folk from far and near,
Come for to see if he's still there.
But some folk who have seen him think as he's queer,
For he neither nods or winks and he cannot hear.
But come what may you can be sure,
He'll bid a fair welcome to rich and to poor.
John Williams (1908)