From the Archives

Raymond Harben

It was by sheer coincidence that a week or two before receiving Summer ’96s Y.R.C. Bulletin, which contained a photograph of the 1949 Irish Meet, your Archivist had found a copy of a song written to commemorate the occasion and thought it would be worth recording in the Bulletin.

The lyricist’s name is not given but the words are to be sung to the tune of “Phil the Fluter’Ball”.

Sure you know the Yorkshire Ramblers spent a week with Mr.Barbour.
They took the boat at Heysham & arrived at Belfast harbour.
And Sam, the lorry driver, said he ceitainly was willin’
To take them with then luggage once again to Enniskillen.
There was Charlie, the President, and Roberts the old veteran,
Godley & Wilfred, John & Harold too.
Tyas & Stanley – you couldn’t find a better ‘un,
Burton, Watts & Barton and a bloke to make the stew.

Chorus, (repeat after each verse.)

With a Pollineska. Pohnagollum, Peter Bryant’s Cattle Hole,
Pollnamada, Polnaraftra, Marble Arch & Rattle-Hole,
Polnagaffie, Pollnataga, Pollnamuch – a dirty hole.
They wrote up on the-kitchen wall the names of five & thirty hole.

There was Roberts with his whistle – or begorrah ’twas the lack of it
“Tell the.bhghter on the rope to take up all the slack of it.
“This pot’s a thousand feet at least but sure as I’m alive
“If you want to get the proper depth you must divide by five”
He went to the bottom & he took a mighty grasp of it,
Came to the top & let out a lusty shout.
He’d brought the bottom up with him & we could only gasp at it.
You see he’d gone & turned the bloomin’ pot-hole inside out.

There’s a place across the border & Black Lion is the name of it.
It’s practically tee-total though you may not think the same of it
They’d go there of an evening – to enjoy its hospitality
And join with all & sundry in the best conviviality.
But they set the welkin ringing on then journey to the farm again.
Some said it was the Banshee or a howlin’ wild cat.
The solution of the mystery – & sure they meant no harm again,
Was only Yorkshire Ramblers singing “Ilkla Moor baht ‘at.”