Yorkshire Ditties, Second Series | Page 6

John Hartley
ivery thing straight;?An' aw'l have yo for th' judge if yor willin',
For aw want nowt but what aw think's reight.
Ov a Monday aw start o' my weshin',
An' if th' day's fine aw get um all dried;?Ov a Tuesday aw fettle mi kitchen,
An' mangle, an' iron beside.
Ov a Wednesday, then aw've mi bakin';
Ov a Thursday aw reckon to brew;?Ov a Friday all th' carpets want shakin',
An' aw've th' bedrooms to clean an' dust throo.
Then o'th' Setterday, after mi markets,
Stitch on buttons, an' th' stockins' to mend,?Then aw've all th' Sundy clooas to luk ovver,
An' that brings a week's wark to its end.
Then o'th' Sundy ther's cooking 'em th' dinner,
It's ther only warm meal in a wick;?Tho' ther's some say aw must be a sinner,
For it's paving mi way to Old Nick.
But a chap mun be like to ha' summat,
An' aw can't think it's varry far wrang,?Just to cook him an' th' childer a dinner,
Tho' it may mak me rayther too thrang.
But if yor a wife an' a mother,
Yo've yor wark an' yor duties to mind;?Yo mun leearn to tak nowt as a bother,
An' to yor own comforts be blind.
But still, just to seer all ther places,
When they're gethred raand th' harston at neet,?Fill'd wi six roosy-red, smilin' faces;
It's nooan a despisable seet.
An, aw connot help thinkin' an' sayin',
(Tho' yo may wonder what aw can mean),?'At if single, aw sooin should be playin'
Coortin tricks, an' be weddin' agean.
What is It.
What is it maks a crusty wife?Forget to scold, an' leeave off strife??What is it smoothes the rooad throo life?
It's sooap.
What is it maks a gaumless muff?Grow rich, an' roll i' lots o' stuff,?Woll better men can't get enough?
It's sooap.
What is it, if it worn't theear,?Wod mak some fowk feel varry queer,?An' put 'em: i' ther proper sphere?
It's sooap.
What is' it maks fowk wade throo th' snow,?To goa to th' church, becoss they know?'At th' squire's at hooam an' sure to goa?
It's sooap.
What is it gains fowk invitations,?Throo them 'at live i' lofty stations??What is it wins mooast situations?
It's sooap.
What is it men say they detest,?Yet alus like that chap the best?'At gives 'em twice as mich as th' rest?
It's sooap.
What is it, when the devil sends?His agents raand to work his ends,?What is it gains him lots o' friends?
It's sooap.
What is it we should mooast despise,?An' by its help refuse to rise,?Tho' poverty's befoor awr eyes?
It's sooap.
What is it, when life's wastin' fast,?When all this world's desires are past,?Will prove noa use to us at last?
It's sooap.
Come thi Ways!
Bonny lassie, come thi ways,
An' let us goa together!?Tho' we've met wi stormy days,
Ther'll be some sunny weather:?An' if joy should spring for me,
Tha shall freely share it;?An' if trouble comes to thee,
Aw can help to bear it.
Tho thi mammy says us nay,
An' thi dad's unwillin';?Wod ta have me pine away
Wi' this love 'at's killin'??Come thi ways, an' let me twine
Mi arms once moor abaght thee;?Weel tha knows mi heart is thine,
Aw couldn't live withaat thee.
Ivery day an' haar 'at slips,
Some pleasure we are missin',?For those bonny rooasy lips
Aw'm niver stall'd o' kissin',?If men wor wise to walk life's track
Withaat sith joys to glad 'em,?He must ha' made a sad mistak
'At gave a Eve to Adam.
Advice to Jenny.
Jenny, Jenny, dry thi ee,
An' dunnot luk soa sad;?It grieves me varry mich to see
Tha freeats abaat yon lad;?For weel tha knows, withaat a daat,
Wheariver he may be,?Tho fond o' rammellin' abaat,
He's allus true to thee.
Tha'll learn mooar sense, lass, in a while,
For wisdom comes wi' time,?An' if tha lives tha'll leearn to smile
At troubles sich as thine;?A faithful chap is better far,
Altho' he likes to rooam,?Nor one 'at does what isn't reight,
An' sits o'th' hearth at hooam.
Tha needn't think 'at wedded life
Noa disappointment brings;?Tha munnot think to keep a chap
Teed to thi appron strings:?Soa dry thi een, they're varry wet,
An' let thi heart be glad,?For tho' tha's wed a rooamer, yet,
Tha's wed a honest lad.
Ther's mony a lady, rich an' great,
'At's sarvents at her call,?Wod freely change her grand estate
For thine tha thinks soa small:?For riches cannot buy content,
Soa tho' thi joys be few,?Tha's one ther's nowt con stand anent,--
A heart 'at's kind an' true.
Soa when he comes luk breet an' gay,
An' meet him wi' a kiss,?Tha'll find him mooar inclined to stay
Wi treatment sich as this;?But if thi een luk red like that,
He'll see all's wrang at once,?He'll leet his pipe, an' don his hat,
An' bolt if he's a chonce.
Ther's mich Expected.
Life's pathway is full o' deep ruts,
An' we mun tak gooid heed lest we stumble;?Man is made up of "ifs" and of "buts,"
It'seems pairt ov his natur to grumble.
But if we'd anxiously tak
To makkin' things smooth as we're able,?Ther'd be monny a better clooath'd back,
An' monny a better spread table.
It's a sad state o' things when a man
Connot put ony faith in his brother,?An'
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