A 98-year-old great grandmother is the inspiration behind a new anthem for the whole county.

Doreen Brigham has written the lyrics for the anthem, which will be the centre point of the BBC’s ambitious Symphony for Yorkshire project.

The 15-minute extravaganza has taken five months to produce and involves 200 musicians from across the county including a Haworth harpist, a folk group from Hull, Colombian drummers from Leeds, the York Minster carillon player and a Sheffield brass band.

But Mrs Brigham’s lyrics, chosen after a competition, will accompany the symphony filmed at Yorkshire locations. It will be broadcast for the first time on Sunday, Yorkshire Day, on the radio before being shown on television on Monday.

And the pensioner, born in Farnley, Otley, in 1912 and raised in Burley-in-Wharfedale, is delighted. “I love writing poetry and am absolutely thrilled that the words have been put to music,” she said.

Mrs Brigham lived in Burley until 1933 before moving away with her husband Joe and not returning until 1965, when she moved to Harrogate.

And it is her life and love of Yorkshire, which inspired her lyrics, according to son Nick, who is a poet.

“The poem has struck such a chord with everyone,” he said. “I am so pleased to know that she has produced something that will be remembered and live on after she is no longer with us. That has brought her so much pleasure.”

Symphony composer Benjamin Till, 35, says the project has been the most ‘difficult and complicated’ he has tried. “Overall, I really hope the finished product is worthy of all the hard work by every single person that has been involved,” he said.

  • The symphony is broadcast on BBC Radio Leeds at 1am on Sunday and can be watched on BBC Look North at 6.30pm on BBC One on Monday.

Singing for the White Rose County

Sing a song of Yorkshire, from the Humber to the Tees

Of horses, wool and terriers, of pudding and of cheese

I know no other county where the land is quite so fine

England’s lovely county. And I’m proud to call it mine

Where shining purple heather stretches far across the moor

And the lapwing’s cry above me takes the place of the traffic roar

And peace comes drifting gently, there’s no place I’d rather be

Than this land of hills and valleys, from the Pennines to the sea

So when I’ve done my roaming, and when my step grows slow

When heart and mind assure me that the time has come to go

Then let me rest in Yorkshire, for its there I want to lie

‘Neath sun and wind and heather…and a gleaming Yorkshire sky.