 | Poems, Ballads and Bucolics |  |
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A FARM-YARD SOLILOQUY.
Owr parson 'e called one daäy, he wur straängen fond o' the breeäd,
Kep' 'em hissen he did, 'e 'd a deäl o' bairns to feeäd:
“Wants to be kilt,” sez he, and 'e dobs his stick at the sty;
“It wudn't be wuss, my friend, if we wur as fit to die.”
Kep' 'em hissen he did, 'e 'd a deäl o' bairns to feeäd:
“Wants to be kilt,” sez he, and 'e dobs his stick at the sty;
“It wudn't be wuss, my friend, if we wur as fit to die.”
“Parson,” I sez, “you're reight, I nivver larnt nowt at school
An' doänt tend reglar in choorch, but I maäs it a gineral rule
Nivver to gev yon critter it swill wi'out scrattin 'is 'eäd,
And thinkin' a deäl o' that vuss about ‘Giv us our daäily bread.’
An' doänt tend reglar in choorch, but I maäs it a gineral rule
Nivver to gev yon critter it swill wi'out scrattin 'is 'eäd,
And thinkin' a deäl o' that vuss about ‘Giv us our daäily bread.’
“And he oops wi' his eye does the critter, quite knawin' and grunts, ‘Amen,’
Just like a clerk he does, and I thinks, thinks I, wi' myssen,
Theer's a many as grunts a deäl wi' a deäl better stuff to yeät,
But noän ov 'em does theer duty by dooin' so well by theer meät.
Just like a clerk he does, and I thinks, thinks I, wi' myssen,
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But noän ov 'em does theer duty by dooin' so well by theer meät.
“Fur nivver a daäy sin' I threatened yon critter fur pork in the spring,—
Sow laäid upo' six ov its brothers, the laäzy lumberin' thing,—
Nivver a daäy nor a meäl but God O'mighty he knaws
It's done it best by it vittel, and still'e spreeads and graws.
Sow laäid upo' six ov its brothers, the laäzy lumberin' thing,—
Nivver a daäy nor a meäl but God O'mighty he knaws
It's done it best by it vittel, and still'e spreeads and graws.
“Nivver looked back it hesn't i' feeädin' from fust to last—
‘Man's life,’ so it sez i' the Psalms, ‘is nobbut a shadder that's past,’
Daävid nivver sed nowt o' the pigs, they wur cloave-footed things—but it's queer,
Pigs to coom oop like a flower, o'moast, and die i' a year.
‘Man's life,’ so it sez i' the Psalms, ‘is nobbut a shadder that's past,’
Daävid nivver sed nowt o' the pigs, they wur cloave-footed things—but it's queer,
Pigs to coom oop like a flower, o'moast, and die i' a year.
“Yees, and theer quoite content is pigs, content to die,
It's nobbut an owry world and narrer an all, is the sty;
And gentlemen quoite is pigs, they'll lig i' the straw till they're fed,
And they weänt coom clatterin' in like the bairns to clam their bread.
It's nobbut an owry world and narrer an all, is the sty;
And gentlemen quoite is pigs, they'll lig i' the straw till they're fed,
And they weänt coom clatterin' in like the bairns to clam their bread.
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“Parson, I've offens thowt it wur all along o' the swine,
That young man coomed to hissen as hed been so gentleman-fine:
Doesn't thou think when they gethered the hacorns theer i' the yard,
He knawed that they nivver complained thoff the husks wur terrible hard?
That young man coomed to hissen as hed been so gentleman-fine:
Doesn't thou think when they gethered the hacorns theer i' the yard,
He knawed that they nivver complained thoff the husks wur terrible hard?
“When you wur a preeäching in choorch tother daäy o' the Prodigal son,
I wur back here siver i' thowt whoäle toime along o' this 'un;
Thinks I, 'twur the pigs as turned 'im, they gev 'im the ring that was gilt,
And took off his clatty owd yanks —I wur glad 'twas a caulf as they kilt.
I wur back here siver i' thowt whoäle toime along o' this 'un;
Thinks I, 'twur the pigs as turned 'im, they gev 'im the ring that was gilt,
And took off his clatty owd yanks —I wur glad 'twas a caulf as they kilt.
“Kilt! why I'm happen a sinner and rough and tough i' the heart,
And I leaves the owd mare to hersen now and then i' the market cart,
But theer's one thing I nivver could doä sin' I hed taäils to my cwoät,
I nivver could coax it, and feed it, and then laäy knife to it throät.
And I leaves the owd mare to hersen now and then i' the market cart,
But theer's one thing I nivver could doä sin' I hed taäils to my cwoät,
I nivver could coax it, and feed it, and then laäy knife to it throät.
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“To my waäy o' thinkin' it's moast loike killin' a bairn o' your oän—
Pigs cries like a woman can cry, and groäns like a man can groän;
Not that they knaws afoorhand, Him as maäde 'em 'ull seeä to that,
Cudn't doä noäways else, sin' they work so well to git fat.
Pigs cries like a woman can cry, and groäns like a man can groän;
Not that they knaws afoorhand, Him as maäde 'em 'ull seeä to that,
Cudn't doä noäways else, sin' they work so well to git fat.
“I doänt so much mind when they're deäd, I can scraäpe and scald wi' the best;
Husk 'em, and wesh 'em, and hing 'em, and git 'em reight famoushly drest—
Deäd! we mun all on us die, so I sooän gits reconciled,
Besides, I'm a bit pork-proud, when I've browt it oop fro' a child.
Husk 'em, and wesh 'em, and hing 'em, and git 'em reight famoushly drest—
Deäd! we mun all on us die, so I sooän gits reconciled,
Besides, I'm a bit pork-proud, when I've browt it oop fro' a child.
“But as sewer as the daäy o' condemnation gits round agaäin—
Yon's under sentence o' death come Monday next to be slaän:—
I'm hoff to the field or market when he's gotten the last on 'is meeäls,
And missus she superintens—for women thinks nowt o' their squeeäls.
Yon's under sentence o' death come Monday next to be slaän:—
I'm hoff to the field or market when he's gotten the last on 'is meeäls,
And missus she superintens—for women thinks nowt o' their squeeäls.
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“But I maäs it a law, poor thing, to soften it hoff at the hend,
Scrats his 'eäd a bit longer, and talks to 'im saäme as a friend;
And the last few meeäls ov his life I reckon it's Christian kind
To stir him in extra stuff and sugar 'is swill to 'is mind.
Scrats his 'eäd a bit longer, and talks to 'im saäme as a friend;
And the last few meeäls ov his life I reckon it's Christian kind
To stir him in extra stuff and sugar 'is swill to 'is mind.
“Fwoäks may talk as they like, but I've fun that theer's pigs and pigs,
I've larnt a deeäl fro' that un as theer i' the crew-yard ligs,
‘Doä your best by your master's meeät,' I 'ears him saäy,
‘Noä world's too small fur content, git ready ageän the daäy.’”
I've larnt a deeäl fro' that un as theer i' the crew-yard ligs,
‘Doä your best by your master's meeät,' I 'ears him saäy,
‘Noä world's too small fur content, git ready ageän the daäy.’”
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