Salts Mill at Saltaire stands still now, unblack,
In shadow of tall-pillared smokeless stack,
A chapter closed, as textile turns to text:
Barn-echo shed is stacked with books instead
Of wool. Cool chic and Hockney’s hectic daubs
With their take on Airedale bedeck the walls:
And middle-classes window-shop and browse
Where massed millworkers often stopped for hours.
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