Yorkshire Lyrics Part 11

On they coom like a flood, an shoo saw Rueben stood,-- An her een seemed fair blazin wi' leet; "Halt!" shoo cried, an shoo went an varry sooin sent Rueben's pipe flyin off into th' street.

"Young man," shoo began, "if yo had been born To smoke that old pipe, then insteead, Ov a nice crop o' hair Natur wod a put thear A chimly at top o' thi heead."

Rueben felt rather mad, for 'twor all th' pipe he had, An he sed, "Well, that happen mud be; But aw'm n.o.bbut human, an thee bein a woman Has proved a salvation to thee.

If a chap had done that aw'd ha knocked him daan flat, But wi' yo its a different thing; But aw'm thinkin someha, th' same law will allaa Me too smook, at allaas yo to sing."

Shoo gloored in his face an went back to her place, As shoo gave him a witherin luk; An swung her umbrel,--ovverbalanced, an fell An ligg'd sprawlin her length amang th' muck.

All her army seemed dumb, an th' chap wi' th' big drum, Turned a bulnex, an let on her chest; Wol th' fiddles an flute wor ivvery one mute, An th' tamborines tuk a short rest.

Then Rueben drew near, an he sed in her ear, As he lifted her onto her feet; "Sometimes its as wise when we start to advise, To be mindful we're net indiscreet.

If yo'd been intended to walk backardsway, To save yo from gettin that b.u.mp, Dame Natur, in kindness, aw'll ventur to say, Wod ha planted a e'e i' yor bustle."

That's All.

Mi hair is besprinkled wi' gray, An mi face has grown wrinkled an wan;-- They say ivvery dog has his day, An noa daat its th' same way wi a man.

Aw know at mi day is nah pa.s.sed, An life's twileet is all at remains; An neet's drawin near varry fast,-- An will end all mi troubles an pains.

Aw can see misen, nah, as a lad, Full ov mischief an frolic an fun;-- An aw see what fine chonces aw had, An regret lots o' things at aw've done.

Thowtless deeds--unkind words--selfish gains,-- Time wasted, an more things beside, But th' saddest thowt ivver remains,-- What aw could ha done, if aw'd but tried.

Aw've had a fair share ov life's joys, An aw've nivver known th' want ov a meal; Aw've ne'er laiked wi' luxuries' toys, Nor suffered what starvin fowk feel.

But aw'm moor discontented to-day, When mi memory carries me back, To know what aw've gethered is clay, Wol diamonds wor strewed on mi track.

Aw can't begin ovver agean, (Maybe its as weel as it is,) Soa aw'm waitin for th' life 'at's to be, For ther's nowt to be praad on i' this.

When deeath comes, as sewerly it will, An aw'm foorced to respond to his call; Fowk'll say, if they think on me still,-- "Well, he lived,--an that's abaat all."

Mary Hanner's Peanner.

When aw cooarted Mary Hanner, Aw wor young an varry shy; An shoo used to play th' peanner Wol aw sheepishly sat by.

Aw lang'd to tell her summat, But aw railly hadn't th' pluck, Tho' monny a time aw started, Yet, somha aw allus stuck.

Aw'm sewer shoo must ha guess'd it, But shoo nivver gave a sign; Shoo drummed at that peanner;-- A'a! aw wish it had been mine!

Aw'd ha chopt it into matchwood,-- Aw'd ha punced it into th' street, It wor awful aggravatin, For shoo thumpt it ivvery neet.

Aw'd getten ommost sickened, When one day another chap Aw saw thear, an he'd getten Mary Hanner on his lap.

Aw didn't stop to argyfy,-- But fell'd him like an ox; An Mary Hanner tried to fly On top o'th' music box.

But he wor gam,--an sich a job Aw'd nivver had befor, We fowt, but aw proved maister, An aw punced him aght o'th' door.

Then like a Tigercat, at me Flew ragin Mary Hammer;-- Yo bet! shoo could thump summat else, Besides her loud peanner!

Aw had to stand an tak her blows, Until shoo'd geeten winded; "Tha scamp!" shoo says, "tha little knows What bargainin tha's hindered!

Awr Jack had n.o.bbut coom to pay, Becoss he's bowt th' peanner, An nah tha's driven him away!"

"Forgie me, Mary Hanner."

Aw ran aghtside an sooin fan Jack, An humbly begged his parden;-- "All reight,"--he sed, "aw'm commin back,"

He didn't care a farden.

He paid her th' bra.s.s, then fetched a cart, An hauled away th' peanner;-- We're wed sin then, an nowt shall part, Me an mi Mary Hanner.

Grondad's Lullaby.

Sleep bonny babby, thi grondad is near, Noa harm can touch thee, sleep withaat fear; Innocent craytur, soa helpless an waik, Grondad wod give up his life for thy sake, Sleep little beauty, Angels thee keep, Grondad is watchin, Sleep, beauty, sleep.

Through the thick mist of past years aw luk back, Vainly aw try to discover the track Buried, alas! for no trace can aw see, Ov the way aw once trod when as sinless as thee, Sleep little beauty, Angels thee keep, Grondad is watchin, Sleep, beauty, sleep.

Smilin in slumber,--dreamin ov bliss, Feelin in fancy a fond mother's kiss; Richer bi far nor a king on his throne, Fearlessly facing a future unknown.

Sleep little beauty, Angels thee keep, Grondad is watchin, Sleep, beauty, sleep.

What wod aw give could aw once agean be, Innocent, spotless an trustin as thee; May noa grief give thee occasion to weep, Blessins attend thee!--Sleep, beauty, sleep.

Sleep little beauty, Angels thee keep, Grondad is watchin, Sleep, beauty, sleep.

Sixty, Turned, To-day.

Aw'm turned o' sixty, nah, old la.s.s, Yet weel aw mind the time, When like a young horse turned to gra.s.s, Aw gloried i' mi prime.

Aw'st ne'er forget that bonny face 'At stole mi heart away; Tho' years have hurried on apace:-- Aw'm sixty, turned, to-day.

We had some jolly pranks an gams, E'en fifty year ago, When sportive as a pair o' lambs, We nivver dreeamed ov woe.

When ivvery morn we left us bed, Wi' spirits leet an gay,-- But nah, old la.s.s, those days have fled:-- Aw'm sixty, turned, to-day.

Yet we've noa reason to repine, Or luk back wi' regret; Those youthful days ov thine an mine, Live sweet in mem'ry yet.

Thy winnin smile aw still can see, An tho' thi hair's turned grey; Tha'rt still as sweet an dear to me, Tho' sixty, turned, to-day.

We've troubles had, an sickness too, But then in spite ov all, We've somha managed to pool throo, Whativver might befall.

Awr pleasurs far outweighed the pain We've met along life's way; An losses past aw caant as gain,-- When sixty, turned, to-day.

Awr childer nah are wed an gooan, To mak hooams for thersels; But we shall nivver feel alooan, Wol love within us dwells.

We're drawin near awr journey's end, We can't much longer stay; Yet still awr hearts together blend, Tho' sixty, turned, to-day.

Then let us humbly bow the knee, To Him, whose wondrous love, Has helpt an guided thee an me, On th' pathway to above.

His mercies we will ne'er forget, Then let us praise an pray, To Him whose wings protect us yet; Tho' sixty, turned, to-day.

That Lad Next Door.

Aw've nowt agean mi naybors, An aw wod'nt have it sed 'At aw wor cross an twazzy, For aw'm kind an mild asteead.

But ther's an end to patience, E'en Job knew that aw'm sewer;-- An he nivver had noa dealins Wi' that lad 'at lives next door.