THE LORD OF SALTAIRE.

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By Abraham Holroyd.[253]

This song was composed to commemorate an event which created much sensation in Yorkshire, and indeed throughout all England, in September, 1853; this was the inauguration and opening of a palace dedicated to industry near Shipley in Airedale. These works were built for the manufacture of alpaca and mohair fabrics, and named Saltaire from Salt—the name of the owner, Titus Salt, esq., M.P. for Bradford—and Aire, the name of the river on which they were erected. The buildings cover an area of eleven and half acres, will contain 1,200 looms capable of producing 30,000 yards of cloth, or mixed goods, per day, or nearly 18 miles of cloth, and employing about 5,000 people.

The town of Saltaire is built upon the best principles, including every convenience necessary for promoting the health and comfort of the population. Not only will it be a model town as regards its spacious squares and streets, grounds for recreation, schools, and church, (which has lately been opened, and cost 11,000l., and is perhaps the most beautiful in its interior of any church in Yorkshire,) its baths and washhouses, and all that philanthropy can suggest, or art supply, to further improvement.

Roll on, gentle Aire, in thy beauty,
Renowned in story and song,
The subject of many a ditty,
From Nicholson's[254] musical tongue:
But a greater than he hath arisen,
Who has link'd thy name with his own,
He will render thee famous for ages,
And thou wilt to millions be known.
Then let us all join in the chorus,
And sing of the qualities rare,
Of one who by nature is noble,—
And hail him the lord of Saltaire!
He's rear'd up a palace to Labour,
Will equal the CÆsars of old,
The church and the school and the cottage,
And lavish'd his thousands of gold:
Where the workman may live and be happy,
Enjoying the fruit of his hand;
In contentment, in comfort, and plenty,
Secure as a peer of the land.
Then let us all join, &c.
From Peru he's brought the alpaca—
From Asia's plains the mohair—
With skill has wrought both into beauty,
Priz'd much by the wealthy and fair:
He has velvets, and camlets, and lustres,
With them there is none can compare;
Then off, off with your hats and your bonnets,
Hurrah for the lord of Saltaire.
Hip, hip, and all join, &c.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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