Walter Hampson

Walter Hampson Poems

Walter Hampson Biography

Walter Hampson (1864–1932) was a self-educated railway engine driver, who in his spare time wrote poetry, a published volume about a fictional trip abroad by three Yorkshiremen, edited a local journal devoted to the Yorkshire dialect, and authored a history of his hometown Normanton, West Yorkshire, that while never published in his lifetime, has been made available by the town on its website. Yorkshire dialect author and poet. Hometown Normanton, West Yorkshire, England. Occupation railway engine driver. Published books include "Tykes Abrooad" [sic] (published by W. Nicholson & Sons, 1911), a comical account of a journey from "Normanton" to "Normandy" by three pals from Yorkshire. "AWheel in Wharfeland" 1918. And "Private Job Mugglestone" published 1916. Copies of this book are now very rare, as most of them were sent to the troops in the first world war trenches. From 1917 until his death in 1932 Walter was also the main contributor and editor of the annual magazine "The Old Clock Almanack" (last published by Watmoughs' Limited, Bradford) also written in Yorkshire dialect.)

The Best Poem Of Walter Hampson

Life Is Worth The Living

When you're hands are growing shaky,
And your hair is growing grey,
And your eyes are growing dimmer,
As the swift years pass away;
When the flowers of life are fading,
And your heart is sad the while,
Still, life is worth the living,
Greet each morrow with a smile.

When your friends are fast departing,
And the dearest ones have gone,
And you feel you’ll soon be living
In the wide, wide world alone;
Don’t waste your time repining,
But mingle with the throng,
For life is still worth living,
So sing a cheery song.

When those for whom you’ve laboured,
Sting your soul with grief and pain;
And something seems to tell you
That you’ve spent your life in vain;
Strive on and be not tempted
From the good work you’ve begun;
Remember God keeps records of
All the noble work that’s done.

If you’ve laboured in life’s spring-time
‘Midst the sunshine and the rain,
The autumn will not fail to bring
The fruitage and the grain;
Though the harvest may not come to you
On this side of the grave;
Still the world will be the richer
For the labour which you gave.

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