The Twenty-Third Psalm: by a West Yorkshire Riding Shepherd

T'good Lord's mi gaffer, an He'll noan see mi starve,

An ah ev a roof over mi 'ead.

T'way that I walk is reight nice an green,

An t'stream runs all quiet in its bed.

When ivver am dahn 'earted, ee cheers mi reight up,

Sort o "Slap on the thi back mi owd lad!"

An ah feel ah must do t'sort o'things ee would like

So I know that mi gaffer is glad.

Tho things hev ter go wrong, we all ev ter dee,

Ah'm noan goin ter fret all t'time.

So long as mi gaffer's arahnd mi
'is crook keeps mi 'ead art a't slime.

When all has gone wrong, an mi friends turned ter foes,

Thar's still gein mi all that ah need. 

In fact, tha's gein more. Heaped up an shoved dahn!

Tha's bin a good Gaffer indeed. 

Where ivver ah go, an what ivver ah do,

Ah shall feel Thi great goodness ah'm sure. 

An ah hope ah'll live wi thee in that shepherd's hut
Were t'skylarks sing fer ivvermore.

Photograph by Lizzie Shepherd  (www.lizzieshepherd.com)