The printed version in Yorkshire Lyrics finishes here These two extra verses are from Yorkshire Ditties First Series.

But as on throo life we hurry, By whativver path we rooam, Let us ne'er forget i'th' worry, True reform begins at hooam: Then, to prove yorsens sincere, Start at once; an persevere.

Hard wark, happen yo may find it, Some dear folly to forsake, Be detarmined ne'er to mind it!

Think, yor honor's nah at stake.

Th' gooid time's drawin varry near!

Then ha faith, an persevere.

A Pointer.

Just listen to mi stooary lads, It's one will mak yo grieve; It's full ov sich strange incidents; Yo hardly can believe.

That la.s.s aw cooarted, went one neet Aght walkin wi' a swell; They ovvertuk me on mi way, An this is what befell.

They tuk me for a finger pooast; Aw stood soa varry still; An daan they set beside me, Just at top o' Beacon Hill.

He sed shoo wor his deary; Shoo sed he wor her pet; 'Twor an awkward sittiwation Which aw shall'nt sooin forget.

Aw stood straight up at top o'th' hill,-- They set daan at mi feet; He hugged her up soa varry cloise, Aw thowt ther lips must meet.

He sed he loved wi' all his heart, Shoo fainted reight away; Aw darsn't luk,--aw darsn't start, But aw wished misen away.

They tuk me for, &c.

He bathed her temples from the brook; He sed shoo wor his life, It made me queer, becoss aw'd sworn To mak that la.s.s mi wife.

Shoo coom araand, an ligg'd her heead, Upon his heavin breast; An then shoo skriked, an off aw ran, But aw cannot tell the rest.

They tuk me for, &c.

They wedded wor, sooin after that, Aw thowt mi heart wod braik;-- It didn't,--soa aw'm livin on, An freeatin for her sake.

But sweet revenge,--it coom at last, For childer shoo had three, An they're all marked wi' a finger pooast Whear it didn't owt to be.

They tuk me for, &c.

An Acrostic.

H a! if yo'd n.o.bbut known that la.s.s, A w'm sure yo'd call her bonny; N oa other could her charms surpa.s.s, N oa other had as monny.

A n ha aw lost mi peace o' mind, H ark! an aw'll tell if yor inclined.

C awered in a nook one day aw set, R aand which wild flaars wor growin; O, that sweet time aw'st ne'er forget, S oa long as aw've mi knowin.

T hear aw first saw this lovely la.s.s; I n thowtful mood shoo tarried, "C ome be mi bride, sweet maid!" aw cried: "K eep off!" shoo skriked, "aw'm married!"

Help Thisen.

"Come, help thisen, lad,--help thisen!"

Wor what mi uncle sed.

We'd just come in throo makkin hay, To get some cheese an breead.

An help misen aw did,--yo bet!

Aw wor a growin lad; Aw thowt then, an aw fancy yet, 'Twor th' grandest feed aw'd had.

When aw grew up aw fell i' love,-- Shoo wor a bonny la.s.s!

But bein varry young an shy, Aw let mi chonces pa.s.s.

Aw could'nt for mi life contrive A thing to do or say, For fear aw should offend her, soa Aw let her walk away.

But what aw suffered nooan can tell;-- Aw loved her as mi life!

But dursn't ax her for the world To be mi darlin wife.

Aw desperate grew,--we met,--aw ax'd For just one kuss,--an then, Shoo blushed, an shook her bonny curls, But let me help misen.

It's varry monny years sin then,-- Mi hair's nah growin gray; But oft throo life aw've thowt aw've heeard That same owd farmer say,-- When in some fix aw've vainly sowt For aid from other men,-- "Tha'rt wastin time,--if tha wants help Pluck up, an help thisen."

If th' prize yo long for seems too heigh, Dooant let yor spirits drop; Ther may be lots o' thrustin, but Yo'll find ther's room at th' top.

Yo connot tell what yo can do Until yo've had a try; It may be a hard struggle, but Yo'll get thear, by-an-bye.

Nah, young fowk, bear this in yor mind An let it be yor creed, For sooin yo'll find fowk's promises Are but a rotten reed.

Feight yor own battles bravely throo, Yo'll sewerly win, an then Yo'll find ther's lots will help yo, When yo con help yorsen.

Bless 'em!

O, the la.s.ses, the la.s.ses, G.o.d bless 'em!

His heart must be hard as a stooan 'At could willingly goa an distress 'em, For withaat 'em man's lot 'ud be looan.

Tho' th' pooasies i' paradise growin For Adam, wor scented soa sweet, He ne'er thank'd 'em for odour bestowin, He trampled 'em under his feet.

He long'd to some sweet one to whisper; An wol sleepin Eve came to his home; He wakken'd, an saw her, an kuss'd her, An ne'er ax'd her a word ha shoo'd come.

An tho' shoo, like her s.e.x, discontented, An anxious fowk's saycrets to know, Pluck'd an apple,--noa daat shoo repented When shoo saw at it made sich a row.

Tho' aw know shoo did wrang, aw forgie her; For aw'm fairly convinced an declare, 'At aw'd rayther ha sin an be wi' her, Nor all th' world an noa woman to share.

Then let us be kind to all th' wimmin, Throo th' poorest to th' Queen up oth' throne, For if, Eve-like, they sometimes goa sinnin, It's moor for th' chaps' sakes nor ther own.

Act Square.

"Another day will follow this,"

Ah,--that shall sewerly be, But th' day 'at dawns to-morn, my lad, May nivver dawn for thee, This day is thine, soa use it weel, For fear when it has pa.s.sed, Some duty has been left undone On th' day at proved thy last.

What's pa.s.sed an gooan's beyond recall, An th' futer's all unknown; Dooant specilate on what's to be, Neglect in what's thi own.

When morn in comes thank G.o.d tha'rt spared To see another day; An when tha goas to bed at neet, Life's burdens on Him lay.