Dreadnought

We crossed the Chantry Bridge

As the Calder boiled beneath

And a drifting, chilling mist

Hung heavy on the heath

We came from far and wide

Marching all together

To gather at Belle Vue

Despite the dank, inclement weather

There were grandfathers and fathers

There were mothers, daughters, sons

Hand in hand in heavy coats

As the frost caressed ...

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