Yorkshire Lyrics. John Hartley
her poor husband lives
An stands it—that licks doll!
Aw'st ha been hung if aw'd been cursed
Wi' sich a wife as Poll!
Her children three, sneak in an aght
As if they wor hawf deead
They seem expectin, hawf ther time,
A claat o'th' side o'th' heead.
If they goa aght to laik, shoo storms
Abaat her looanly state;
If they stop in, then shoo declares
They're allus in her gate.
If they should start to sing or tawk
Shoo tells 'em, "hold yor din!"
An if they all sit mum, shoo says,
"It railly is a sin
To think ha shoo's to sit an mope,
All th' time at they're away,
An when they're hooam they sit like stoops
Withaat a word to say."
If feelin cold they creep near th' fire,
They'll varry sooin get floored;
Then shoo'll oppen th' door an winder
Declarin shoo's fair smoored.
When its soa swelterin an hot
They can hardly get ther breeath,
Shoo'll pile on coils an shut all cloise,
An sware shoo's starved to deeath.
Whativver's wrang when they're abaat,
Is their fault for bein thear;
An if owt's wrang when they're away,
It's coss they wornt near.
To keep 'em all i' misery,
Is th' only joy shoo knows;
An then shoo blames her husband,
For bein allus makkin rows.
Poor chap he's wearin fast away—
He'll leeav us before long;
A castiron man wod have noa chonce
Wi' sich a woman's tongue.
An then shoo'll freeat and sigh, an try
His virtues to extol;
But th' mourner, mooast sincere will be
That chap 'at next weds Poll.
The Old Bachelor's Story.
It was an humble cottage,
Snug in a rustic lane,
Geraniums and fuschias peep'd
From every window-pane;
The dark-leaved ivy dressed its walls,
Houseleek adorned the thatch;
The door was standing open wide—
They had no need of latch.
And close besides the corner
There stood an old stone well,
Which caught a mimic waterfall,
That warbled as it fell.
The cat, crouched on the well-worn steps,
Was blinking in the sun;
The birds sang out a welcome
To the morning just begun.
An air of peace and happiness
Pervaded all the scene;
The tall trees formed a back ground
Of rich and varied green;
And all was steeped in quietness,
Save nature's music wild,
When all at once, methought I heard
The sobbing of a child.
I listened, and the sound again
Smote clearly on my ear:
"Can there,"—I wondering asked myself—
"Can there be sorrow here?"—
I looked within, and on the floor
Was sat a little boy,
Striving to soothe his sister's grief
By giving her a toy.
"Why weeps your sister thus?" I asked;
"What is her cause of grief?
Come tell me, little man," I said,
"Come tell me, and be brief."
Clasping his sister closer still,
He kissed her tear-stained face,
And thus, in homely Yorkshire phrase,
He told their mournful case.
———
"Mi mammy, sir, shoos liggin thear,
I' th' shut-up bed i'th' nook;
An' tho aw've tried to wakken her,
Shoo'll nawther spaik nor look.
Mi sissy wants her porridge,
An its time shoo had 'em too;
But th' foir's gooan aght an th' mail's all done—
Aw dooant know what to do.
An O, my mammy's varry cold—
Just come an touch her arm:
Aw've done mi best to hap her up,
But connot mak her warm.
Mi daddy he once fell asleep,
An nivver wakken'd moor:
Aw saw 'em put him in a box,
An tak him aght o'th' door.
He nivver comes to see us nah,
As once he used to do,
An let mi ride upon his back—
Me, an mi sissy too.
An if they know mi mammy sleeps,
Soa cold, an white, an still,
Aw'm feeard they'll come an fotch her, sir;
O, sir, aw'm feeard they will!
Aw happen could get on misen,
For aw con work a bit,
But little sissy, sir, yo see,
Shoo's varry young as yet.
Oh! dunnot let fowk tak mi mam!
Help me to rouse her up!
An if shoo wants her physic,
See—it's in this little cup.
Aw know her heead wor bad last neet,
When putting us to bed;
Shoo said, 'God bless yo, little things!'
An that wor all shoo sed.
Aw saw a tear wor in her e'e—
In fact, it's seldom dry:
Sin daddy went shoo allus cries,
But nivver tells us why.
Aw think it's coss he isn't here,
'At maks her e'en soa dim;
Shoo says, he'll nivver come to us,
But we may goa to him.
But if shoo's gooan an left us here,
What mun we do or say?—
We connot follow her unless,