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The Cleveland Lyke Wake Dirge

Yorkshire or English?

IF the Yorkshire dialect version is really too difficult to understand, here is my attempt at a translation, but I urge you to persevere with the original, it has been spoken and sung in this form for who knows how long? If you cannot manage to intone this in a Yorkshire accent (and, like all poetry, it is best read out loud) then try a soft Lowland Scots accent.

No one can be sure how people spoke all those years ago, but it is thought that Shakespeare wrote for actors all of whom had accents which would sound to us today like Yorkshire ones. Further back still, there is evidence that at the time of Chaucer the 'normal' English accent sounded like a cross between Geordie and Northumbrian. So Scots/Northumbrian/Yorkshire con brio should not be too far out. Enjoy yourselves!

This yar neet, this yar neet,
Ivvery neet an' all,
Fire an' fleet an' cannle leet,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
When thoo frae hence away art passed
Ivvery neet an' all,
Ti Whinny Moor thoo cums at last,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
If ivver thoo gav owther hosen or shoon,
Ivvery neet an' all,
Clap thee doon an' put 'em on,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
Bud if hosen an' shoon thoo nivver gav neean,
Ivvery neet an' all,
T'whinnies'll prick thee sair ti t'beean,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
Frae Whinney Moor when thoo art passed,
Ivvery neet an' all,
Ti t'Brig o' Dreead thoo cums at last,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
If ivver thoo gav o' thy siller an' gowd,
Ivvery neet an' all,
On t'Brig o' Dreead thoo'll finnd footho'd,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
Bud if siller an' gowd thoo nivver gaven eean,
Ivvery neet an' all,
Thoo'll doon, doon tum'le t'ards Hell fleeames,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
Frae t'Brig o' Dreead when thoo art passed
Ivvery neet an' all,
Ti t'fleeames o' Hell thoo'll cum at last,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
If ivver thoo gav owther bite or sup,
Ivvery neet an' all,
T'fleeames'll nivver catch thee up,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
Bud if bite an' sup thoo nivver gav neean,
Ivvery neet an' all,
T'fleeames'll bon thee sair ti t'beean,
An' Christ tak up thy saul.
On this night, on this night,
Every night and all,
Fire and flame and candle light,
And Christ take up your soul.
When you from here away are passed
Every night and all,
To Whinny Moor you'll come at last,
And Christ take up your soul.
If ever you gave either socks or shoes,
Every night and all,
Sit you down and put them on,
And Christ take up your soul.
But if socks and shoes gave you no-one,
Every night and all,
The whinnies will prick you to the bone,
And Christ take up your soul.
From Whinney Moor when you are passed,
Every night and all,
To the Bridge of Dread you'll come at last,
And Christ take up your soul.
If ever you gave of your silver and gold,
Every night and all,
On the Bridge of Dread you'll find a foothold,
And Christ take up your soul.
But if silver and gold you never gave,
Every night and all,
You'll down, down tumble towards Hell's flame,
And Christ take up your soul.
From the Bridge of Dread when you are passed
Every night and all,
To the flames of Hell you'll come at last,
And Christ take up your soul.
If ever you gave either food or drink,
Every night and all,
The flames will never make you sink,
And Christ take up your soul.
But if food and drink gave you no-one,
Every night and all,
The flames will burn you to the bone,
And Christ take up your soul.

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