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PostPosted: Thu Jan 26, 2012 8:07 am 
Spider Lady
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Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 9:23 pm
Posts: 8093
Location: Staffordshire
Burnley Express and Advertiser

Wednesday 18 February 1903

Original Poetry

A Winter Night At Roggerham

At Roggerham high, the wind blows loud,
The hills are hoary white;
The cold earth lies within her shroud,
A grim and ghastly sight!

At Roggerham Gate, before the fire
We sit, a jolly crew;
The merriment grows high, and higher,
With jests both old and new.

At Roggerham high, white winter holds
His carnival, I ween;
The fleecy folk are in the folds,
No human form is seen!

At Roggerham Gate, the shepherd old
His budget opens wide,
And tells the tales so often told,
While the listener holds his side!

At Roggerham high, the storm-fiends rave,
They batter at the door;
But what care we how they behave,
Amid the merry splore!

Now hark, and see! the reddening coal
Is crackling in the grate:
Was never, in winter, a cosier hole
Than this at Roggerham Gate!

Abm. Stansfield
January 16th 1903


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