Yorkshire Lyrics Part 9

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, 'G.o.d 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, Somebody 'll show us th' way."

My heart was full to bursting, When I heard the woeful tale; I gazed a moment on the face Which death had left so pale;

Then clasping to my heaving breast The little orphan pair, I sank upon my bended knees, And offered up a prayer,

That G.o.d would give me power to aid Those children in distress, That I might as a father be Unto the fatherless.

Then coaxingly I led them forth; And as the road was long, I bore them in my arms by turns-- Their tears had made me strong.

I took them to my humble home, Where now they may be seen, The lad,--a n.o.ble-minded youth,-- His "sissy,"--beauty's queen.

And now if you should chance to see, Far from the bustling throng, An old man, whom a youth and maid Lead tenderly along;--

And if you, wondering, long to know The history of the three,-- They are the little orphan pair-- The poor old man is me:

And oft upon the gra.s.sy mound 'Neath which their parents sleep, They bend the knee, and pray for me; I pray for them and weep.

Did yo Ivver!

"Gooid gracious!" cried Susy, one fine summer's morn, "Here's a bonny to do! aw declare!

Aw wor nivver soa capt sin th' day aw wor born!

Aw neer saw sich a seet at a fair.

Here, Sally! come luk! There's a maase made its nest Reight i'th' craan o' mi new Sundy bonnet!

Haivver its fun its way into this chist, That caps me! Aw'm fast what to mak on it!

It's cut! Sithee thear! It's run reight under th' bed!

An luk here! What's these little things stirrin?

If they arn't some young uns 'at th' gooid-for-nowt's bred, May aw be as deead as a herrin!

But what does ta say? 'Aw mun draand 'em?' nooan soa!

Just luk ha they're seekin ther mother; Shoo must be a poor little softheead to goa; For awm nooan baan to cause her noa bother.

But its rayther to bad, just to mak her hooam thear; For mi old en's net fit to be seen in; An this new en, awm thinkin, 'll luk rayther queer After sich a rum lot as that's been in.

But shut up awr p.u.s.s.y, an heed what aw say; Yo mun keep a sharp eye or shoo'll chait us; Ah if shoo sees th' mother shoo'll kill it! An pray What mun become o' these poor helpless crayturs?

A'a dear! fowk have mich to be thankful for, yet, 'At's a roof o' ther own to cawer under, For if we'd to seek ony nook we could get, Whativver'd come on us aw wonder?

We should nooan on us like to be turned aght o' door, Wi' a lot o' young bairns to take care on; An altho' awm baght bonnet, an think misen poor, What little aw have yo'st have't share on.

That poor little maase aw dooant think meant me harm, Shoo ne'er knew what that bonnet had cost me; All shoo wanted wor some little nook snug an warm An a gooid two-o'-three shillin its lost me.

Aw should think as they've come into th' world born i' silk, They'll be aristocratical varmin; But awm wasting mi time! awl goa get 'em some milk, An na daat but th' owd la.s.s likes it warmin.

Bless mi life! a few drops 'll sarve them! If we try Awm weel sure we can easily spare 'em, But as sooin as they're able, awl mak 'em all fly!

Nivver mind if aw dooant! harum scarum!"

A Quiet Tawk.

"Nah, la.s.s, caar thi daan, an let's have a chat,-- It's long sin we'd th' haase to ussen; Just give me thi nooations o' this thing an that, What tha thinks abaat measures an men.

We've lived a long time i' this world an we've seen, A share of its joys an its cares; Tha wor nooan born baght wit, an tha'rt net varry green, Soa let's hear what tha thinks of affairs."

"Well, Jooany, aw've thowt a gooid deal i' mi time, An aw think wi' one thing tha'll agree,-- If tha'd listened sometimes to advice sich as mine, It mud ha been better for thee.

This smookin an drinkin--tha knows tha does booath, It's a sad waste o' bra.s.s tha'll admit; But awm net findin fault,--noa indeed! awd be looath!

But aw want thi to reason a bit."