Yorkshire Ditties, First Series | Page 4

trick,?For he heeard it geen aght th' same as me;?An' he just did th' same thing tother wick,--?It made fowk tak noatice, dos't see.?An' when aw wor gooin towards hooam?Aw heeard som'dy comin behund:?'Twor pitch dark, an' aw thowt if they coom,?Aw should varry near sink into th' graund.?Aw knew it wor Jim bi his traid,?An' aw tried to get aght ov his gate;?But a'a! tha minds, lass, aw wor flaid,?Aw wor niver i' sich en a state.?Then aw felt som'dy's arm raand my shawl,?An' aw said, "nah, leave loise or aw'll screeam!?Can't ta let daycent lasses alooan,?Consarn thi up! what does ta mean?"?But he stuck to mi arm like a leach,?An' he whispered a word i' mi ear;?It took booath my breeath an' my speech,?For aw'm varry sooin thrown aght o' gear.?Then he squeezed me cloise up to his sel,?An' he kussed me, i' spite o' mi teeth:?Aw says, "Jimmy, forshame o' thisel!"?As sooin as aw'd getten mi breeath:?But he wodn't be quiet, for he said?'At he'd loved me soa true an' soa long--?Aw'd ha' geen a ear off my yed?To get loise--but tha knows he's so a strong--?Then he tell'd me he wanted a wife,?An' he begged 'at aw wodn't say nay;--?Aw'd ne'er heeard sich a tale i' mi life,?Aw wor fesen'd whativer to say;?Cos tha knows aw've a likin' for Jim;?But yo can't allus say what yo mean,?For aw tremeld i' ivery limb,?But at last aw began to give way,?For, raylee, he made sich a fuss,?An aw kussed him an' all--for they say,?Ther's nowt costs mich less nor a kuss.?Then he left me at th' end o' awr street,?An' aw've felt like a fooil all th' neet throo;?But if aw should see him to neet,?What wod ta advise me to do??But dooant spaik a word--tha's noa need,?For aw've made up mi mind ha to act,?For he's th' grandest lad iver aw seed,?An' aw like him th' best too--that's a fact!
Stop at Hooam
"Tha wodn't goa an leave me, Jim,
All lonely by mysel??My een at th' varry thowts grow dim--
Aw connot say farewell.
Tha vow'd tha couldn't live unless
Tha saw me every day,?An' said tha knew noa happiness
When aw wor foorced a way.
An th' tales tha towld, I know full weel,
Wor true as gospel then;?What is it, lad, 'at ma's thee feel
Soa strange--unlike thisen?
Ther's raam enuff, aw think tha'll find,
I'th taan whear tha wor born,?To mak a livin, if tha'll mind
To ha' faith i' to-morn.
Aw've mony a time goan to mi wark
Throo claads o' rain and sleet;?All's seem'd soa dull, soa drear, an' dark,
It ommust mud be neet.
But then, when braikfast time's come raand,
Aw've seen th' sun's cheerin ray,?An' th' heavy lukkin claads have slunk
Like skulkin lads away.
An' then bi nooin it's shooan soa breet
Aw've sowt some shade to rest,?An' as aw've paddled hooam at neet,
Glorious it's sunk i'th west.
An' tho' a claad hangs ovver thee,
(An' trouble's hard to bide),?Have patience, lad, an' wait an' see
What's hid o'th' tother side.
If aw wor free to please mi mind,
Aw'st niver mak this stur;?But aw've a mother ommust blind,
What mud become o' her?
Tha knows shoo cared for me, when waik
An' helpless ivery limb,?Aw'm feeard her poor owd heart ud braik
If aw'd to leave her, Jim.
Aw like to hear thee talk o' th' trees
'At tower up to th' sky,?An' th' burds 'at flutterin i'th' breeze,
Lie glitterin' jewels fly.
Woll th' music of a shepherd's reed
May gently float along,?Lendin its tender notes to lead
Some fair maid's simple song;
An' flaars 'at grow o' ivery side,
Such as we niver see;?But here at hooam, at ivery stride,
There's flaars for thee an' me.
Aw care net for ther suns soa breet,
Nor warblin melody;?Th' clink o' thi clogs o' th' flags at neet
Saands sweeter, lad, to me.
An' tho' aw wear a gingham gaan,
A claat is noa disgrace;?Tha'll niver find a heart moor warm
Beat under silk or lace.
Then settle daan, tak my advice,
Give up this wish to rooam!?An' if tha luks, tha'll find lots nice
Worth stoppin' for at hooam."
"God bless thee, Jenny! dry that e'e,
An' gi'e us howd thi hand!?For words like thoase, throo sich as thee,
What mortal could withstand!
It isn't mich o'th' world aw know,
But aw con truly say,?A faithful heart's too rich to throw
Withaat a thowt away.
So here aw'll stay, and should fate fraan,
Aw'll tew for thine and thee,?An' seek for comfort when cast daan,
I'th' sunleet o' thi e'e."
The Short-Timer
Some poets sing o' gipsy queens,
An' some o' ladies fine;?Aw'll sing a song o' other scenes,
A humbler muse is mine:?Jewels, an' gold, an' silken frills,
Are things too heigh for me,?But woll mi harp wi' vigour thrills,
Aw'll strike a chord for thee.
Poor lassie wan,?Do th' best tha can,?Although thi fate be hard;
A time ther'll be?When sich as thee?Shall have yor full reward.
At hauf-past five tha leaves thi bed,
An' off tha goes to wark;?An' gropes thi way to mill or shed,
Six months o'th' year