The Lament of Swordy Well (II)

Carry Ackroyd's wonderful painting of Swaddywell:
"At Swaddywell Pit" Watercolour 2004 (http://www.carryakroyd.co.uk) Used with permission.

In the 20th century, Swaddywell became one of England's first nature reserves and was leased by the National Trust between 1915 and 1924. However, Swaddywell was sold in 1924 and quarrying resumed.

In parish bonds I well may wail
Reduced to every shift
Pity may grieve at troubles tale
But cunning shares the gift
Harvests with plenty on his brow
Leaves losses taunt with me
Yet gain comes yearly with the plough
And will not let me be

Alas dependance thou'rt a brute
Want only understands
His feelings wither branch and root
That falls in parish hands
The much that clouts the ploughmans shoe
The moss that hides the stone
Now Im become the parish due
Is more then I can own

Though Im no man yet any wrong
Some sort of right may seek
And I am glad if een a song
Gives me the room to speak
Ive got among such grubbing geer
And such a hungry pack
If I brought harvest twice a year
They'd bring me nothing back