Yorkshire Lyrics Part 25

Although thy station may be low, Thy life's conditions hard, Mak th' best o' what falls to thi lot, An tha shall win reward.

Man's days ov toil on earth are few Compared to that long rest 'At stretches throo Eternity, For them 'at's done ther best.

Though monny rough hills tha's to climb, An bogs an becks to wade; Though thorns an brambles chooak thi path, Yet, push on undismayed.

Detarmination, back'd wi' Faith, An Hope to cheer thi on, Shall gie thi strugglin efforts strength, Until thi journey's done.

Let thi religion be thi life,-- Let ivvery word an deed Be prompted bi a love for all, Whativver be ther creed.

Let wranglin praichers twist an twine, Ther doctrines new an old; Act square,--an ther is One will see Tha'rt net left aght i'th' cold.

His Dowter Gate Wed.

He'd had his share ov ups an daans, His sprees an troubles too; Ov country joys an life i' taans, He'd run th' whoal gamut throo.

He labored hard to mak ends meet, An keep things all ship-shap: An th' naybor's sed, 'at lived i'th' street, "He's a varry daycent chap."

He paid his rent an gave his wife Enuff for clooas an grub, To pleas her he'd insured his life, An joined a burial club.

His childer,--grander nivver ran To climb a father's knee; Noa better wife had onny man,-- Noa praader chap could be.

He tuk noa stock i' fleetin time, He nivver caanted th' years; For he wor hale, just in his prime, An nowt to cause him fears.

He nivver dreamt ov growin old, Sich thowts ne'er made him freat, He sed,--"Why aw'm as gooid as gold, Aw'm but a youngster yet!"

His childer thrave like willow wands, An made fine maids an men, But th' thowt ne'er entered in his nut, 'At he grew old hissen.

His e'en wor oppened one fine day, His dreams o' youth all fled; An th' reason on it wor, they say,-- His dowter,--shoo gate wed.

"E'a, gow!" he sed, "but this licks me!

Shoo's but a child hersen,-- Ov all things!--why,--it connot be Her thowts should turn to men!"

"Whisht!" sed his wife, "we wed as young, An shoo's moor sense bi far,-- An then tha knows shoo's th' grandest la.s.s 'At lives at Batley Carr."

He gave a grooan, for on his la.s.s He'd set a deal o' stooar.

He lit his pipe an filled his gla.s.s, Then fixed his e'en o'th' flooar.

"By gum!" he sed, "but this is rough, Aw ne'er knew owt as bad, If shoo's a wife, its plain enuff Aw connot be a lad."

"Aw must be old,--aw say,--old la.s.s,-- Does't think aw'm growin grey?

Gooid gracious! but ha time does pa.s.s!

But tha doesn't age a day.

Tha'rt just as buxum nah as then, Aw'st think tha must feel shamed, Tha luks as young as her thisen,-- Or could do, if tha framed."

"Aw'st ha to alter all mi ways,-- Noa moor aw'st ha to rooam;-- Just sattle daan an end mi days Cronkt up bith' hob at hooam.

An 'fore owts long, as like as net, Wol crooidled up i'th' nook, Ther'll be some youngster browt, aw'll bet, To watch his grondad smook."

"Do stop! aw wonder ha tha dar, Behave thi soa unkind!

Does't think 'at th' lads i' Batley Carr Are all booath dumb an blind?

Shoo's wed a steady, honest chap, An shoo's booath gooid an fair, Ther's net another fit to swap,-- They mak a gradely pair."

"'Man worn't made to live alooan,'

Tha tell'd me that thisen:-- Tha needn't shak thi heead an grooan;-- Tha's happen changed sin then.

But if ther ivver wor a crank, It's been my luck to see, It wor my childer's father When he furst coom coortin me."

"But rest content, its all for th' best;-- An then tha must ha known,-- Shoo thowt it time at shoo possest A nice hooam ov her own."

"Well--may they prosper! That's my prayer,-- They'st nivver want a friend Wol aw'm alive,--but aw'st beware, An watch theas younger end."

All We Had.

It worn't for her winnin ways, Nor for her bonny face But shoo wor th' only la.s.s we had, An that quite alters th' case.

We'd two fine lads as yo need see, An' weel we love 'em still; But shoo war th' only la.s.s we had, An' we could spare her ill.

We call'd her bi mi mother's name, It saanded sweet to me; We little thowt ha varry sooin Awr pet wod have to dee.

Aw used to watch her ivery day, Just like a oppenin bud; An' if aw couldn't see her change, Aw fancied' at aw could.

Throo morn to neet her little tongue Wor allus on a stir; Awve heeard a deeal o' childer lisp, But nooan at lispt like her.

Sho used to play all sooarts o' tricks, 'At childer shouldn't play; But then, they wor soa nicely done, We let her have her way.

But bit bi bit her spirits fell, Her face grew pale an' thin; For all her little fav'rite toys Shoo didn't care a pin.

Aw saw th' old wimmin shak ther heeads, Wi monny a doleful nod; Aw knew they thowt shoo'd goa, but still Aw couldn't think shoo wod.

Day after day my wife an' me, Bent o'er that suff'rin child, Shoo luk'd at mammy, an' at me, Then shut her een an' smiled.

At last her spirit pa.s.s'd away; Her once breet een wor dim; Shoo'd heeard her Maker whisper 'come,'

An' hurried off to Him.

Fowk tell'd us t'wor a sin to grieve, For G.o.d's will must be best; But when yo've lost a child yo've loved, It puts yor Faith to th' test.

We pick'd a little bit o' graand, Whear gra.s.s and daisies grew, An' trees wi spreeadin boughs aboon Ther solemn shadows threw.

We saw her laid to rest, within That deep grave newly made; Wol th' s.e.xton let a tear drop fall, On th' handle ov his spade.

It troubled us to walk away, An' leeav her bi hersen; Th' full weight o' what we'd had to bide, We'd niver felt till then.

But th' hardest task wor yet to come, That pang can ne'er be towld; 'Twor when aw feszend th' door at nee't, An' locked her aat i'th' cowld.

'Twor then hot tears roll'd daan mi cheek, 'Twor then aw felt mooast sad; For shoo'd been sich a tender plant, An' th' only la.s.s we had.

But nah we're growin moor resign'd, Although her face we miss; For He's blest us wi another, An we've hopes o' rearin this,

Th' First o'th Sooart.

Aw heeard a funny tale last neet-- Aw could'nt howd fro' laffin-- 'Twor at th' Bull's Heead we chonced to meet, An' spent an haar i' chaffin.