CITY SONG: We got a kick out of this poem written in 1883 about
“old Bradford town.” The Landmark Society published it in this
month’s newsletter.

“All hail to thee, old Bradford town!

Thou city of a world renown:

I left thee several years ago,

But now the place I’d scarcely know.

I could not tell it with the pen,

The magic change from now and then;

The hand, likewise the brain, of man

Have shown their work since they began,

Which sped like swallows on the wing:

Hail, Bradford City, thou art King!

“I see new faces on the street,

And quite content seem those I meet.

I miss the bustle and the din,

The surging mass when trains come in,

Yet note the change on every hand –

Where hovels were, now mansions stand.

Seek North, or South, or East, or West,

Thou art the envy of the rest.

For this to thee thy praise I sing –

Yes, Bradford, City, thou art King!

“Amongst the sights that please the eye,

I love the children passing by.

They seem so happy, light and gay,

As they return from school each day.

The ladies (bless them) dress so neat,

They smile (some flirt) and look so sweet.

All things have changed – I see the men

Wear better clothes than they did then:

This is the change that time did bring

To thee, for Bradford, thou are King!

“I view thy derricks gray with age,

Which in thy history wrote their page:

I hear no sound of nail or drill,

Thy mountain sides, for aye, are still.

Majestically they all look down,

The glory of thy work to crown,

For enterprises, great and small,

(No, not like oil, to ‘rise and fall’)

Are springing up on every side,

They paths of commerce open wide:

And all around new ventures spring,

To herald Bradford, thou are King!

“Yes, years go upon the street,

Excitement ran to fever heat.

And drunkards, reeling by the score,

It made one chill the way they swore,

The refuse scum of all mankind,

Had centered here, their homes to find.

These things of evil could not last,

Those days have gone, those times are past;

So let the watchword loudly ring –

Yes, Bradford City, thou art King!

“One thing I missed when here before,

And which I see now by the score –

These baby carriages (on wheels)

Well loaded (with familiar squeals).

Now you may smile, it humors you;

So does it me – for I have two.

And when the coil of years rolls round,

And we’re all planted underground,

Posterity will likewise sing

That Bradford City, thou art King!”