Poems and Lancashire Songs :: :: University of Virginia Library

Th' wynt wur still i'th shade o'th hill,
An' stars began o' glowin'
I'th fadin' leet, one summer neet,
When th' dew wur softly foin';
Wi' weary shanks, by primrose banks,
Where rindlin' weet wur shinin',
Aw whistle't careless, wanderin' slow,
Toward my cot inclinin'.

209

II

Through th' woodlan' green aw tooted keen,
For th' little window winkin';—
Th' stars may shine, they're noan as fine
As Matty's candle blinkin';
O'er th' rosy hedge aw went to th' ridge
O'th lonesome-shaded plantin',
To get another blink o'th leet
That set my heart a-pantin'.

III

Then deawn bi'th well i'th fairy-dell,
Wi' trees aboon it knittin',
Where, near an' fur, ther nowt astir
But bats i'th eawl-leet flittin';
An' feeorfu' seawnds that rustle't reawnd
I' mony a goblin-flitter,

210

As swarmin' dark to flaysome wark
They flew wi' fiendish titter.

IV

Theer, reet anent, aw geet a glent
At brought a shiver o'er me,
For, fair i'th track ther summat black
Coom creepin' on afore me;
It wur not clear—but it wur theer—
Wi' th' gloomy shadow blendin',
Neaw black an' slim, neaw grey an' grim,
Wi' noather side nor endin'.

V

Cowd drops wur tremblin' o' my broo,
As there aw stoode belated; —
Aw durstn't turn,—aw durstn't goo,—
But shut my e'en, an' waited;

211

An' just as aw begun to pray,
There coom fro' th' creepin' spectre
A weel known voice, that said, “Well, James!”—
'Twur nowt but th' village rector.

VI

“Well, James,” said he, “I'm fain to see
Yor pew so weel attended,
But then, yo shouldn't fo' asleep
Afore my sarmon's ended;
To dreawsy ears it's useless quite
To scatter holy teychin';
Why don't yo bring a bit o' snuff,
An' tak it while I'm preychin'. ”

VII

“Well, well,” said aw, “there's mony a way
O' keepin' e'en fro closin',

212

A needle would keep th' body wake,
An' th' soul may still be dozin';
But this receipt would set it reet,
Iv th' mixture wur a warm un,—
Yo' get some stingin' gospel-snuff,
An' put it into th' sarmon.”

VIII

He stare't like mad, but th' good owd lad
Then grip't my hond, warm-hearted,
An' said, “Yo're reet, yo're reet—good neet!”
An' that wur heaw we parted.
It touched my heart, an' made it smart,
He spoke so mild and pratty;—
Aw blest him as he walked away,
An' then went whoam to Matty.

Rindlin' weet, a little wandering, musical rill.

Tooted, peeped.

Plantin', plantation.

Eawl-leet, twilight, when owls begin to cry.

Flaysome wark, fearful work.

Reet anent aw geet a glent, right a-head I got a glimpse.

Belated, benighted.

Teychin', teaching.

Preychin', preaching.