Ballads in the Cumberland dialect by R. Anderson, with notes and a glossary, and a biographical sketch of the author |
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OUR JWOHNY. |
 | Ballads in the Cumberland dialect |  |
107
OUR JWOHNY.
Our Jwohny's just turn'd till a parfet atomy,
Nowther works, eats, drinks, or sleeps as he sud;
He seeghs in a nuik, and fins fau't wid his poddish,
And luiks levke a deyl'd body, spoil'd for aw gud.
He reaves in his sleep, and reads buiks o' luive letters,
Ae turn efter dark, nae, he'll nit dui at aw!
But ae neet, last week, I detarmin'd to watch him,
And suin, wi' his sweetheart our Jwohnny I saw.
Nowther works, eats, drinks, or sleeps as he sud;
He seeghs in a nuik, and fins fau't wid his poddish,
And luiks levke a deyl'd body, spoil'd for aw gud.
He reaves in his sleep, and reads buiks o' luive letters,
Ae turn efter dark, nae, he'll nit dui at aw!
But ae neet, last week, I detarmin'd to watch him,
And suin, wi' his sweetheart our Jwohnny I saw.
I cowr'd my ways down, ahint our young eshes,
And by went the tweesome,—he seem'd nit the seame;
They laugh'd, kiss'd and cutter'd—nought bad past atween them;
I 'gat what I wanted, and sae crap off heame;
Our landlword' lass, Letty, his heart hes in keepin,
To be seer she's a sarvent, but weel to be seen;
She's lish, young and bonnie, and honest as onie,
In hard workin poverty I see nought that's mean!
And by went the tweesome,—he seem'd nit the seame;
They laugh'd, kiss'd and cutter'd—nought bad past atween them;
I 'gat what I wanted, and sae crap off heame;
Our landlword' lass, Letty, his heart hes in keepin,
To be seer she's a sarvent, but weel to be seen;
She's lish, young and bonnie, and honest as onie,
In hard workin poverty I see nought that's mean!
The fadder o' Jwohnny was my fellow-sarvent;
God rust him! his marrow I's ne'er to see mair!
Auld Matthew hed gear, and follow'd me weekly,
And cut me a lock of his gray grizzled hair.
Hed I wedded Matthew, I'd now been a leady,
But fourscwore and twonty can niver agree:
Our Jwohnny may e'en try his luck, and git wedded.
And they sal ha'e baith stock and crop when I dee.
God rust him! his marrow I's ne'er to see mair!
Auld Matthew hed gear, and follow'd me weekly,
And cut me a lock of his gray grizzled hair.
Hed I wedded Matthew, I'd now been a leady,
But fourscwore and twonty can niver agree:
108
And they sal ha'e baith stock and crop when I dee.
| Ballads in the Cumberland dialect | |