If Cheordie saw ye comin’, ye werna left behind
Sir – The Yarrows Heritage Trust would like to thank all those who made the renovation project at Thrumster station such a success and to all those who came to celebrate its opening with us.
We are also very grateful for all the interesting items of railway memorabilia that were either gifted or loaned to the trust and would love to see any more that may be in existence locally.
One of the more interesting items was a poem, which may have been part of an SWRI competition in vernacular verse.
We would love to know something of the author, who may have been a lady named Ryrie.
Although the train will never come back, we hope the little station at Thrumster will continue to give pleasure to everyone and provide an important window both on the railway and on the Yarrows area, with its rich prehistory and natural heritage.
Yarrows Heritage Trust
"A Sad Poem on the Lybster Train"
Some sing o’ ships and flying bombs
’At hurtle through ’e air;
Some lek til praise e’ racehorse
’E greyhound or e’ hare
But o’ a’ ’e things that ever sped
In air, or land or sea
There’s only wan ’at I wid choose
’E Lybster train for me.
Hid wisnae chist an ornar train
At rins wi a’ ’e shither
At’ he’s til wait in sidings
Til mak room for anither
Hid hed a line all til hidsel
Hid hed five stations too
An deil a thing til hould hid back
Except an anteran coo.
Hid dinae gie a scrap for win’
Or hail or time or rain
But chooged away contented lek
Til Week – an back again
Hid wandered on hid’s canny
way
Though "Speed" was some fouks’ cry,
But fa wid want til tear til Week
So long as Week was dry?
E trains ’at ran doon in ’e sooth
Are no ’e trains I lek
For if ye want til catch them
Ye nearly brak yer neck
But we ’e Lybster trainie
Ye didna need til mind.
If Cheordie saw ye comin’
Ye werna left behind.
Hid carried kings and commoners,
Fenders and fountain pens
An’ doos an’ dougs an’ doormats
An’ coos an’ clockan hens
We took hid jest for granted
Thocht hid wid aye rin on
But fortune wis against us
An’ noo wer train is gone
They said hid didna pey hid’s wey
They said hid wisna worth;
To those in high authority
Hid cumbered up the earth,
An noo, in place o’ a’ hid’s dird
An cheerful homely din,
There’s nothing bit ’e scorries’ cry
An’ weary whistlan win’.
But foremost in ma memories
O’ pleasure or o’ pain
I’ll gie a place o’ honour til
Ma poor wee Lybster train.