Shifting Scenes and Other Poems By J. Stanyan Bigg |
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| YAN OR TWO LILE BITS I' T' FURNESS
DIALECT. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
 | Shifting Scenes and Other Poems |  |
169
YAN OR TWO LILE BITS I' T' FURNESS DIALECT.
I. AULD GRANFADDER JONES.
Auld Granfadder Jones is stordy and strang;Auld Granfadder Jones is six feet lang;
He hes spindle shanks, he hes lantern jaws,
But there's neabody's laugh like his hee-haws!
He's first at a weddin' an' last at a fair,
He's t' jolliest of aw, whaiver is there;
For he keeps a lad's heart in his wizened auld skin,
An' warks out his woes as fast as they're in;
Ye'd niver believe he'd iver seen trouble,
Though there's times when t'auld fellow's amaist walking double;
He hes corns on his taes, an' t' gout i' his hands,
An' he shivers an' shacks wheniver he stands,
He hes t' rheumatiz tu; but whaiver heeard groans
Frae t' withered auld lips o' Granfadder Jones?
II. T' AULD MAN.
T' auld man! T' auld man!
He's eighty year an' mair;
He wrought seean, wrought leate,
Wrought hard an' sair;
An' now he sits i' t' sunshine,
Duing aw he can;
Wha wod grudge him house-room?
Poor auld man!
He's eighty year an' mair;
170
Wrought hard an' sair;
An' now he sits i' t' sunshine,
Duing aw he can;
Wha wod grudge him house-room?
Poor auld man!
Lang afoore we saaw t' leet,
He was fashing hard;
Indure, out o' dure,
I' shuppen, field, an' yard;
Lang afoore we saaw t' leet,
He was hoddin t' plough—
He wrought hard for us, lads,
We'se du t' saame now
For t' auld man i' t' sunshine,
Duing aw he can;
Wha wod grudge him house-room?
Poor auld man!
Aw thro' t' summer sunshine
He watches t' clouds gang by;
Nin can tell what wonders
Glour up in his eye;
For far-off, an' far-off
Aw his leeaks gang,
Thro' many summer sunshines
To t' times when he was strang,
An' laboured leate an' early
Wi' hoe, an' speade, an' plough,
An' dud his best for us, lads,
As we are duing now
For t' auld man i' t' sunshine,
Duing aw he can;—
Wha wod grudge him house-room?
Poor auld man!
He was fashing hard;
Indure, out o' dure,
I' shuppen, field, an' yard;
Lang afoore we saaw t' leet,
He was hoddin t' plough—
He wrought hard for us, lads,
We'se du t' saame now
For t' auld man i' t' sunshine,
Duing aw he can;
Wha wod grudge him house-room?
Poor auld man!
Aw thro' t' summer sunshine
He watches t' clouds gang by;
Nin can tell what wonders
Glour up in his eye;
For far-off, an' far-off
Aw his leeaks gang,
Thro' many summer sunshines
To t' times when he was strang,
An' laboured leate an' early
Wi' hoe, an' speade, an' plough,
171
As we are duing now
For t' auld man i' t' sunshine,
Duing aw he can;—
Wha wod grudge him house-room?
Poor auld man!
III. LILE POLLY.
It's nobbut this time last year, come tomorn,
Sen me an' Polly walkt to U'ston fair,
Across t' green fields an' down t' lang sunny looans,
A good three mile an' mair.
We stopp't a' parlish bit tu, now an' then,
An' yet it mod a' been three yirds,
For t' time flang by at sic a reate,
Titter nor wings o' birds.
For sweet lile Polly was wi' me;
But now my heart is sair,
For I'se see Polly, bonny Polly,
Niver, niver mair!
Sen me an' Polly walkt to U'ston fair,
Across t' green fields an' down t' lang sunny looans,
A good three mile an' mair.
We stopp't a' parlish bit tu, now an' then,
An' yet it mod a' been three yirds,
For t' time flang by at sic a reate,
Titter nor wings o' birds.
For sweet lile Polly was wi' me;
But now my heart is sair,
For I'se see Polly, bonny Polly,
Niver, niver mair!
I'd often hid behint a dike,
Or ligged in an empty cart
To leeak at her, an' hear her sing,—
An' t' sound o' her bonny voice wod ring
An' finger about my heart.
I darn't tell her what I felt,
But leeakt an' leeakt an' niver stirr'd,
Though I'd a' geen my silver watch
Just for ya single word.
Oh! sweet lile Polly! Bonny Polly!
Oh! my heart is sair;
For I'se see Polly, gentle Polly,
Niver, niver mair!
Or ligged in an empty cart
To leeak at her, an' hear her sing,—
An' t' sound o' her bonny voice wod ring
An' finger about my heart.
I darn't tell her what I felt,
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Though I'd a' geen my silver watch
Just for ya single word.
Oh! sweet lile Polly! Bonny Polly!
Oh! my heart is sair;
For I'se see Polly, gentle Polly,
Niver, niver mair!
Afaoore we gat to U'ston town,
I pluckt up heart an' spak reet out;
She leeakt at me—the sweet lile lass—
But what she answered matters nout.
I'se niver forgit the words she spak
Under that goolden sky;
A limmer, bonny fairy she,
An' a gurt clodhopper I!
But niver heed; she loved me weell;
That's a' I care to knaw;
An' it's gang wi' me, baith neet an' day,
Through sun, an' winter snaw.
Oh! sweet lile Polly, bonny Polly,
Oh! my heart is sair;
For I'se see Polly, gentle Polly,
Niver, niver mair!
I pluckt up heart an' spak reet out;
She leeakt at me—the sweet lile lass—
But what she answered matters nout.
I'se niver forgit the words she spak
Under that goolden sky;
A limmer, bonny fairy she,
An' a gurt clodhopper I!
But niver heed; she loved me weell;
That's a' I care to knaw;
An' it's gang wi' me, baith neet an' day,
Through sun, an' winter snaw.
Oh! sweet lile Polly, bonny Polly,
Oh! my heart is sair;
For I'se see Polly, gentle Polly,
Niver, niver mair!
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