The early poems of John Clare 1804-1822: General editor Eric Robinson: Edited by Eric Robinson and David Powell: Associate editor Margaret Grainger |
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MY MATEY |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
302
MY MATEY
A tinker on his stoney seat
Mending kettles in the street
This funny ballad did repeat
About his matey
Mending kettles in the street
This funny ballad did repeat
About his matey
Who stead of going to church to pray
To ale house slives the nearest way
& oft gets drunk the sabbath day
My matey
To ale house slives the nearest way
& oft gets drunk the sabbath day
My matey
Who sits till spent his week wage store
& then gins choak behind the door
Till trusting knaves will trust no more
My matey
& then gins choak behind the door
Till trusting knaves will trust no more
My matey
Who when hes drove in famines nook
Woud most tempt steal the parsons book
To get a pint by hook le crook
My matey
Woud most tempt steal the parsons book
To get a pint by hook le crook
My matey
303
Who spite of faults pride holds in scorn
Brought on by wretchedness forlorn
Proves good a friend as ere was born
My matey
Brought on by wretchedness forlorn
Proves good a friend as ere was born
My matey
Who when hes gotten fixt again
& want by two three shills is slain
Will dealt about as free as rain
My matey
& want by two three shills is slain
Will dealt about as free as rain
My matey
Who ever gis a beggar part
& sings his song & drinks his quart
While hes a stiver left to start
My matey
& sings his song & drinks his quart
While hes a stiver left to start
My matey
Who mong his mates as soon as bid
Will out wis box spank up the lid
& splice around the pipe & quid
My matey
Will out wis box spank up the lid
& splice around the pipe & quid
My matey
Who when his bacco stores are weak
& some sad hound refreshments seek
Will parts old tramper from his cheek
My matey
& some sad hound refreshments seek
Will parts old tramper from his cheek
My matey
But who whens full purse treateth men
That leaves his wants to help him sen
Swears theyll near s[o]dger him agen
My matey
That leaves his wants to help him sen
Swears theyll near s[o]dger him agen
My matey
& who when old crones take a pride
Their pound wis last groat to divide
Woud een at hell gate stick tos side
My matey
Their pound wis last groat to divide
Woud een at hell gate stick tos side
My matey
304
Who oft encounters dreadful wars
When sopping full he home repairs
& who fors wife as little cares
My matey
When sopping full he home repairs
& who fors wife as little cares
My matey
Who stands no henpeckt jaw nor blows
But in her face a dazzler throws
& blacks her eye & bloods her nose
My matey
But in her face a dazzler throws
& blacks her eye & bloods her nose
My matey
Who shows to life no childish play
Nor meets wi sorrows half the way
Thro sun & swale whos al'ays gay
My matey
Nor meets wi sorrows half the way
Thro sun & swale whos al'ays gay
My matey
Who oft confind to wants foul tether
Wi water porridge stans the weather
& lives on bread for weeks together
My matey
Wi water porridge stans the weather
& lives on bread for weeks together
My matey
Who thinks the ills of life resorts
All natural vermin in their sorts
As lice is bred on beggars coats
My matey
All natural vermin in their sorts
As lice is bred on beggars coats
My matey
Who mocks old fate till him she put
Wi barlay crust i roofless hut
& lives where some there throats woud cut
My matey
Wi barlay crust i roofless hut
& lives where some there throats woud cut
My matey
Who still takes life as it may swing
& follows chance to drink & sing
Nor thinks a harm tos land or king
My matey
& follows chance to drink & sing
Nor thinks a harm tos land or king
My matey
| The early poems of John Clare | |