Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Take that, Library! Luddite Poem to the Face!

I am displeased with the library computers, and also with technology in general, so I will post this Luddite poem in protest of the universe's spiting me my video watching because of the laxness of the library administration. Just Update The Adobe Flash Player, Already!
The Tintwhistle Weaver's Daughter (From Kevin Binfield's collection of Luddite writings at Murray University).
There was a weaver's daughter born
When loaves were big and cheap
Work was forbid on a Monday
Tho work enough for keep
His daughter grew pretty and fine
On meat and bread he'd bring
And bloomed the human face divine
Her light sweet voice would sing
But your debts and taxes want pay'd
Coined of the poor and dead
Your Orders and council kill trade
And weavers cry for bread
So bent the daughter to her fate
From work she did not cower
She beam'd the yarn from Manchester
And dress'd the warp with flour
She beams the yarn from Manchester
And dresses the warp with flour
The shuttle flies from morn til night
And rests at a late hour
From morn til night she cannot cease
Her life is nowt but toil
She has not time for love or sport
Her blooming flowers spoil
Still your debts and taxes want pay'd
Coined of the poor and the dead
Your Orders and French wars kill trade
And weavers cry out for bread
She bends no more to her poor lot
A life of nowt but toil
Enriching the mighty and great
While her own flowers spoil
She cries aloud her heros name
Her Sherwood hero Ludd
Will set a stop to wars and steam
And wages as they stood

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