Poetry (Written about Newton, or by Newton Poets)

[radman]

“To let the Punishment fit the Crime”

The vandals who, at dead of night,
Saw down the rugby sticks,
A scheme we've brought out,
To ferret them out,
And cure their knavish tricks.

The forge shall them draw,
Till they're ten feet and more,
Then as posts they shall fill the role.

And folks passing by,
Will look up and cry,
"They’re certainly well up the pole.”

Hi-Saw. (Vulcan Works) (1948)

[radman]

“In Every Clime.”

In many other countries,
Too numerous to set down,
Vulcan skills and prowess,
Have gathered world renown.

Through the quiet fields of Britain,
Keeping to the fore,
From Inverness to London,
Vulcan Locos roar.

Within the damp dark jungle,
On the road to Mandalay,
Engines built in Newton,
Continue on their way.

On the endless plains of India,
In service ‘neath the sun,
From Madras, Lahore and Pakistan,
Vulcan Locos run.

O’er the lonely dusty Pampas,
Of central Argentine,
The engines from the Vulcan,
Race up and down the line.

Across the hills of Serbia,
By forest glen and stream,
Hurtling through the starry night,
Vulcan Locos steam.

Into the Turkish sunset,
And distant old Cathay,
Sturdy Vulcan engines,
In service every day.

With Diesel, Steam, Electric,
The order book is filled,
Providing work in plenty,
For the happy Vulcan guild.

R. Naylor. (Vulcan Works – Order Office) (1949)

[davros]

" IN EVERY CLIME" - wonderful - somet to be proud of !
Davros

[radman]

“The Man Within.”

He may not ride a handsome steed,
Possess a suit of finest tweed;
No stately mansion for his home,
Or lovely grounds in which to roam.

His clothes are frayed and torn at sleeve,
Seen better days, so I believe;
His feet they are but poorly shod,
His socks I believe are odd.

There’s many a man with a heart of gold,
‘Neath coat that’s tattered, faded, old;
Be sure my friend and have no doubts,
It’s “the man within” which really counts.

F. Brown. (Vulcan Works – Drillers) (1949)

[Podstar66]

Just thought I would pop this picture in of the the railway epitaph

Engineers Epitaph at Newton Church_taken possibly1979.jpg

I have no idea where the grave is, and I haven't looked for it.
Is it still there ?

Pod

[radman]

I don't know. If it stops raining tomorrow I might go and have a look.

[radman]

The gravestone is not there anymore. Apparently it was removed sometime around 1992.

[bob]

Sorry am i missing something here,
pod says -

I have no idea where the grave is, and I haven't looked for it.
Is it still there ?

andrew -

I don't know. If it stops raining tomorrow I might go and have a look.

andrew -

The gravestone is not there anymore. Apparently it was removed sometime around 1992.

i thought i had posted this question but strange things seem to be happening on the site at the moment
But where is the grave stone?
Bob

[mike59]

I'm also a tad confused.
(and I'll try use my words carefully and concisely as possible, so as not to attract too much scrutiny)

What is missing - the gravestone, grave or the epitaph? or is the gravestone and epitaph the same thing.
Also where is that photo from Pod?

Mike

[Podstar66]

For my part. I have never looked for the grave at St Peters, that the headstone with the railway epitaph is on. So I do not know where abouts in the graveyard it is. So I was just asking if it was still there, the headstone with the epitaph etc.
As to the picture, I came across it recently on the internet, but I cannot remember what site it was from, sorry.
I know it wasn't a direct look for the epitaph etc, but more way of the poster had other local pics and the epitaph picture was one. I will try and recreate my image search that lead to it, and get back to you on that one, Mike

Pod

I found it again.

Here is a link to the website

http://www.edgehillstation.co.uk/resour ... s-epitaph/

There are some good pics on there, if you have the patience to look

My dad thinks the Eric Shenton mentioned as donating the images, could be an Eric Shenton that worked at the Vulcan, and bowled for the Vulcan. But it just may be a coincidence in the names, and the subjects of the images having a local connection.

[radman]

I didn't actually go down and check myself, but took the information from the book "THE INSCRIPTIONS OF ST. PETER’S CHURCH, NEWTON LE WILLOWS" by Graham Normansell.

From the Introduction:

My wife and I copied the inscriptions in the church and churchyard of St. Peters, Newton Le Willows, and also the adjacent cemetery during the Winter of 1997. Most of the gravestones in the churchyard had been taken up and relaid at sometime in the recent past. It is not known whether any were discarded during this process. There is evidence that some bits of stone were used to embroider a feature in the garden on the northside using a stone sundial or clockface as its centrepiece. Most of the inscriptions are still quite legible although a few are badly eroded to the point where they are no longer decipherable. The earliest stone dates from 1741.

One gravestone that is certainly no longer here was recorded by J.H. Lane in 1916. This stone has disappeared only recently because I remember seeing it myself a few years ago At the head of this stone was engraved an image of an early steam engine - no doubt the product of the local foundry:

[mike59]

Cheers Pod.

As far as I'm aware this (or a similar) memorial is still at St Peter's.

Mike

[radman]

back to the poems...

“POST WAR PLEA.”

The flags of freedom waved again o'er Chistendom
And we rejoiced;
Some quietly in our hearts,
Some loudly voiced.
This was the triumph of our people’s vow
Their land to keep;
The triumph of the countless tortured resting now
In Blessed sleep.

The flags of freedom still must wave o'er Christendom,
So let us all,
In spite of false creeds and doctrines
Hear the Call
That bids us live as loving brothers and in peace;
The only dictators being
Our consciences.

Then as the Spring brings forth her bloom from rot and mould,
Posterity
May see great wisdom rise from this fast-fading old
Half-century.

Mrs. K. M. Haigh (Vulcan Works - Drawing Stores) (1949)

[radman]

HOLIDAY MEMORY

I looked on Conway in the evening light,
Her slopes were green, her river silver bright,
Her castle, grim and grey, her bridge of grace,
Gave perfect beauty to this perfect place.

And from some westward steep and rocky shore,
The sea-birds' mournful cry the breezes bore,
A note of sadness ever to be found,
In all that loveliness which lay around.

No scene could reach perfection to my mind,
Without some wistfulness of nature's kind,
A hungry bird, a wide and hungry sea,
Create a brooding which is ecstasy.

Thus was my feeling for this gem of Wales,
Her heights, her history, her ancient tales,
Told thro’ the ages from the lips of men,
Who, on that evening, seemed to live again.

At sunset when earth, sea and sky all glowed,
With rosy fire from Heaven's light bestowed,
I closed my eyes to hold that picture fair,
In memory's keeping, treasured safely there.

And now when worn and weary is my heart,
I search my mind to find a precious part,
There Conway lies, a living harmony,
Within my thoughts, where I find sanctuary.

K. M. Haigh. (Vulcan Works - Drawing Stores) (1949)

[radman]

“Brotherly Love”

Said Tom to Jack one sunny day,
"In the meadow we will play,
I'll take my ball, and fly my kite,
If the tailings are just right."

So off they went hearts full of glee,
Tom aged nine, Jack aged three,
Happy hours to fill with pleasure,
Childhood days golden treasure.

On grassy banks they played about,
Till both were hungry, tired out,
"Let's go for tea." said Tom to Jack,
“I'll ride you home a pick-a-back."

As Tom trudged on with aching feet,
A kindly lady he did meet,
Who said to Tom, "Why don't you tarry,
He's too big for you to carry."

"I beg your pardon," Tom replied,
His face lit up, eyes opened wide,
"He's no burden, not for me,
For he’s my brother, don’t you see.”

F. Brown. (Vulcan Works – Drillers) (1949)