Ben Brierley

Ben Brierley Poems

Ben Brierley Biography

Benjamin Brierley (1825 – 18 January 1896), English weaver and writer in Lancashire dialect, was born in Failsworth, the son of humble parents, and started life in a textile factory, educating himself in his spare time. At about the age of thirty he began to contribute articles to local papers, and the republication of some of his sketches of Lancashire character in A Summer Day in Daisy Nook (1859) attracted attention. In 1863 he definitely took to journalism and literature as his work, publishing in the same year his Chronicles of Waverlow, and in 1864 a long story called The Layrock of Langley Side (afterwards dramatized), followed by others. He started in a weekly titled, Ben Brierley's Journal, which remained in publication until 1891, and he gave public readings from his own writings, visiting America in 1880 and 1884. His various Ab-o'th'-Yate sketches (about America, London, etc.), and his pictures of Lancashire common life, were very popular, and were collected after his death. In 1884 he lost his savings by the failure of a building society, and a fund was raised for his support. He died on 18 January 1896, and two years later a statue was erected to him in Queens Park, Manchester. Today Brierley is remembered in a new bronze statue in his birthplace at The Rocks in Failsworth. A local pub, The Ben Brierley, situated on Moston Lane is also named after him.)

The Best Poem Of Ben Brierley

Go, Tak Thi Ragg'D Childer An' Flit

Has eawr Jammy bin here to-neet ?
Oh! theaw'rt theer, theau great drunken slotch
It's strange if au nowt elze to do
Bo' ha' thee every bed-time to fotch.
Come whoam; or au'll goo an' go t' bed,
An' leeov thi t' sleep where theau art;
For theaw'rt here every neet o' thi life,
As soon's theau gets th' hoss eawt o'th' cart.

What is ther' for th' supper? Ther's nowt!
Beawt theau taks a red-herrin fro' Sol's.
Heaw con't think au con get thi owt good,
When theaw leeoves me nowt bo' th' bare walls.
If theaw'd give me thy wage as theau out,
Au could do summat farrantly then;
Bo' au getten a thowt I' mi yed,
Wi mun ne'er ha' owt gradely agen.

Have au browt thi th' top-cowt? go thi look!
Aud ha' browt thi th' stret-jacket as soon :
Theau knows au've ha' t' put it up th' speawt,
For money to pay for thi shoon.
Ther's th' rent chap just bin, an' he swears
He can never catch nob'dy a-whoam ;
He's bin four or five times to-day,
Bo' aur eawt, an' au could na' weel come,

Nawe, I ha'na bin drinkin' mysel;
Aw've ne'er tastut 'tiger '' to-day;
Bo' au bin o'er to Plattin to yo'r Nan's,
An' hoo would mak' mi t' stop to mi tay.
If we han had a toothful o' rum,
Hoo paid for't, an' that's nowt to thee;
If it's done me some good thee ne'er fret;
Bo' theaw never thinks nowt abeawt me.

What's made thi bring childher yon toys?
Theaw't likker t' ha' browt thi brass whoam;
For Sal has poo'd th' yed oft her doll,
An' Dick's sent his clog through his drum;
An' then ther's yon fal-dher-dal cap,
Stick't full o' pink ribbons theaw's browt;
If theow'd browt mi two black 'uns i'th' stid,
Theaw'd ha' done summat like as theaw owt.

Wilt come whoam? then tarry wheer t' art,
For aw'm cuss'd if au ax thee ogen;
Eh! this world 'ud soon be at eend
If wimmen wur owt like yo men.
Nawe, au'll see thi befar 'fore au'll sup;
Au'd rayther throw th' pot at thi yed;
An' au've twenty good minds for to do't,
If it's nobbut for what theau's just sed.

Wilt hit me? ay, do if theaw dar!
An' au'll just ha' thi walk't eawt o'th' dur;
Theaw thinks, 'cose theaw plaguet tother wife,
Theaw'll ha' me at th' same rate as theaw'd her,
Bo' au'll show thi a sperrit, mi lad,
'At'll no' tak a blow for a buss ;
An' if t' tries thi owd capers wi' me,
As bad as theau does au'll do wuss.

So wind up thi lip an' chew that,
An' tarry o neet if theaw will;
If they'll tak thi, an' keep thi, it's reet,
For au'm blest if au've not had mi fill.
Ift theaw't toyart o' livin wi' me,
Go, tak thi ragged childer an' flit,
For ift byets me to th' seet o' mysel',
Theaw'll noo mak me t' cruttle o bit

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