Poems and Songs :: :: University of Virginia Library

Poems and Songs

(Second Series). By Edwin Waugh

Waugh, Edwin (1817-1890)

These Bonny Bits o' Childer.

Good Night!

When the Sun Goes Down.

Oh, my Clothing's Thin.

To the River Roach.

The Hour of Shade.

To my Old Fiddle.

I Wish, my Love, it was so with You.

Fishwoman's Song.

Oh, the Wild, Wild Moors.

My Croodling Dove.

As I went Crooning on my Way.

Now's the Time to Remember the Poor.

It's Time to be Joggin' Away.

Farewell!

I can't tell how to Woo.

I Met with a Doleful Wight.

In a May Morning, Early.

I Pray Thee, Love, Let me in.

Oh, the Summer's Sweet.

A Little Brief Authority.

Little Cattle, Little Care.

Old Ireland shall Blossom Again!

When the Ships come Sailing in.

Lapstone Song.

Unfurl the Flag!

I Know What I Know.

Three Jovial Huntsmen.

Owd Robin o' Quifter's.

Noather Cobs nor Sleck.

Owd Bumper's Courtship.

My Gronfaither, Willie.

Come to your Porritch.

Heigh, Jone, Owd Brid!

Eh, Dear, what a Bother!

Maut-Worm.

God Bless Thee, Nan!

Our Jem an' Me.

It's Hard to Tell which Gate to Goo.

Going to the Fair.

APPENDIX.

Jack Swaddle.

Fylde Fisherman's Song.

On Reading Edwin Waugh's Lancashire Poems.

To Edwin Waugh,

To Edwin Waugh.

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I Pray Thee, Love, Let me in.

[_]

To an old tune.

I

It rains, it hails, it snows, it blows,
And I've got wet through all my clothes;
So, I pray thee, love, let me in.

II

What brings you here at dead of night?
Go back, and come in broad daylight,
If you want me to let you in.

III

I cannot rest away, my dear;
'Tis love of thee that brings me here;
So, I pray thee, now, let me in.

IV

These doors are open all the day;
In the morning, if you've aught to say,
Then, you may come freely in.

V

O'er moor and moss, without a light,
I've wander'd all this stormy night;
So, I pray thee, love, let me in.

VI

The legs that brought you wand'ring here,
May take you back again, my dear;
For, I don't mean to let you in.

VII

With wet and cold I'm nearly dead;
My teeth are chattering in my head;
So, I pray thee, love, let me in.

VIII

Your teeth may chatter, and so may you,
Till the rain has drenched you through and through;
But I don't mean to let you in.

IX

I fain would sit down by the fire
An hour or two; that's my desire;
So, I pray thee, love, let me in.

X

Go home, my dear, and dry your clothes,
And creep to bed with soft repose;
Your mother will let you in.

XI

The wind blows cold and the rain is dree;
But the night's not half so cold as thee;
Farewell; for I can't get in.

XII

If thy heart is right, put up the banns,
And let the parson join our hands;
And then, I will let thee in.