Yorkshire Lyrics - Part 3
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Part 3

But aw oppen'd th' haase door an aw heeard all wor still; Soa aw ventured o' tip toe to creep up to bed, Thinkin th' less aw disturbed her an th' less wod be sed.

When awd just getten ready to bob under th' clooas, Aw bethowt me aw hadn't barred th' gate an lockt th' doors; Soa daan stairs aw crept ommost holdin mi breeath, An ivverything raand mi wor silent as deeath.

When aw stept aght oth door summat must ha been wrang, For it shut ov itsen wi a terrible bang; It wor lucky aw cleared it withaat gettin hurt, But still, aw wor lockt aght o' door i' mi shirt.

Thinks aw its noa use to be feared ov a din, Awst be foorced to rouse Betty to let me get in.

An to mend matters snow wor beginnin to fall, An a linen shirt makes but a poor overall.

Aw knockt at first pratly, for fear ov a row, But her snooarin aw heeard plain enuff daan below.

Mi flesh wor i' gooise-lumps, mi feet wor like ice, To be frozzen to deeath, thinks aw, willn't be nice; Soa as knockin wor useless aw started to bray, Till at last one oth pannels began to give way.

All th' neighbors ther heeads aght oth windows did pop, But aw couldn't wake Betty, shoo slept like a top.

At last a poleeceman coom raand wi his lamp, An he spied mi an thowt mi some murderin scamp; Aw tried to explain, but he wodn't give heed, For he wanted a job like all th' rest ov his breed.

He tuk me to th' lock-up, an thear made a charge, At aw wor a lunatic rooamin at large.

In a cell aw wor put, whear aw fan other three, 'Twor a small _cell_ for four, but a big _sell_ for me; An shiv'rin an shudd'rin an pairt druffen sick, That neet seem'd to me twice as long as a wick.

Next mornin they dragg'd me to th' cooart-haase to tell What it meant, an to give an accaant o' misel; An they fined me five shillin, but ha could aw pay, When mi bra.s.s wor ith pockets oth clooas far away?

Then they sent Betty word, an shoo coom, for it seems Shoo wor up i' gooid time, for shoo'd had ugly dreeams; An shoo browt me mi clooas, an shoo set me all streight, But her pity wor n.o.bbut, "It just sarves thee reight."

Sin then yo've noa nooation what awve to endure, For aw gate sich a cold 'at noa phisic can cure; An if aw complain Betty says i' quicksticks, "Tha sees what tha gets wi thi wrang-headed tricks."

Soa aw grin an aw bide it as weel as aw can, But awve altered mi tactics, an nah it's mi plan If mi mates ivver tempt me an get me to rooam, Aw sup pop when awm aght an sup whisky at hooam.

An Betty declares it's been all for mi gooid, For awd long wanted summat to cooil mi young blooid; But this lesson it towt me awl freely confess,-- To mak sewer th' gate's made fast befoor aw undress.

A Jolly Beggar.

Aw'm as rich as a Jew, tho aw havn't a meg, But awm free as a burd, an aw shak a loise leg; Aw've noa haase, an noa barns, soa aw nivver pay rent, But still aw feel rich, for awm bless'd wi content, Aw live, an awm jolly, An if it is folly, Let others be wise, but aw'l follow mi bent.

Mi kitchen aw find amang th' rocks up oth moor, An at neet under th' edge ov a haystack aw snoor, An a wide spreeadin branch keeps th' cold rain off mi nop, Wol aw listen to th' stormc.o.c.k at pipes up oth top; Aw live, an awm jolly, &c.

Aw nivver fear thieves, for aw've nowt they can tak, Unless it's thease tatters at hing o' mi back; An if they prig them, they'll get suck'd do yo see, They'll be noa use to them, for they're little to me.

Aw live, an awm jolly, &c.

Fowk may turn up ther nooas as they pa.s.s me ith rooad An get aght oth gate as if fear'd ov a tooad; But aw laff i' mi sleeve, like a snail in its sh.e.l.l, For th' less room they tak up, ther's all th' moor for misel.

Aw live, an awm jolly, &c.

Tho philosiphers tawk, an church parsons may praich, An tell us true joy is far aght ov us raich; Yet aw nivver tak heed o' ther cant o' ther noise, For he's nowt to be fear'd on at's nowt he can loise.

Aw live, an awm jolly, &c.

Aw Wodn't for all aw Could See.

Why the d.i.c.kens do some fowk keep thrustin, As if th' world hadn't raam for us all?

Wi consarn an consait they're fair brustin, One ud think th' heavens likely to fall.

They fidge an they fume an they flutter, Like a burd catched wi lime on a tree, And they'll fratch wi ther own breead an b.u.t.ter:-- But aw wodn't for all aw could see.

Bless mi life! th' world could get on withaat em!

It ud have to do if they wor deead; They may be sincere but aw daat em, If they're honest, they're wrang i' ther heead.

They've all some pet doctrine, an wonder Why fowk wi ther plans disagree, They expect yo should all knuckle under, But aw wodn't for all aw could see.

My old woman may net be perfection, But we're wed soa we know we've to stick; An if shoo made another selection, Aw mightn't be th' chap at shoo'd pick.

But we get on reight gradely together, An her failins aw try net to see, Some will bend under th' weight ov a feather, But aw wodn't for all aw could see.

A chap at aits peaches and cherries, Mun expect to be bothered wi stooans; An he's n.o.bbut a fooil if he worries Coss yearins arnt made withaat booans.

To mak th' best o' things just as aw find em, Seems th' reight sooart o' wisdom to me; An when things isn't reight aw neer mind em, For aw wodn't for all aw could see.

All araand me aw see ther's moor pleasure Nor aw can enjoy wol aw live; An contentment is this world's best treasure, Then why should aw sit daan an grieve?

If they enjoy naggin an growlin, It maks little difference to me, But wi th' world full o' pleasure to roll in:-- Why, aw wodn't for all aw could see.

Come thi Ways!

Bonny la.s.sie, come thi ways, An let us goa together!

Tho' we've met wi stormy days, Ther'll be some sunny weather.

An if joy should spring for me, Tha shall freely share it; An if trouble comes to thee, Aw can help to bear it.

Tho' thi mammy says us nay, An thi dad's unwillin'; Wod ta have me pine away Wi this love at's killin'?

Come thi ways, an let me twine Mi arms once moor abaght thee; Weel tha knows mi heart is thine, Aw couldn't live withaat thee.

Ivvery day an haar at slips, Some pleasure we are missin', For those bonny rooasy lips Awm nivver stall'd o' kissin'.

If men wor wise to walk life's track Withaat sith joys to glad 'em, He must ha made a sad mistak At gave a Eve to Adam.

What is it?

What is it maks a crusty wife Forget to scold, an leeave off strife?

What is it smoothes th' rooad throo life?

It's sooap.

What is it maks a gaumless m.u.f.f Grow rich, an roll i' lots o' stuff, Woll better men can't get enough?

It's sooap.

What is it, if it worn't theear, Wod mak some fowks feel varry queer, An put em i' ther proper sphere?

It's sooap.

What is it maks fowk wade throo th' snow, To goa to th' church, becoss they know 'At th' squire's at hooam an sure to goa?

It's sooap.

What is it gains fowk invitations, Throo them at live i' lofty stations?

What is it wins mooast situations?

It's sooap.

What is it men say they detest, Yet allus like that chap the best 'At gives em twice as mich as th' rest?

It's sooap.

What is it, when the devil sends His agents raand to work his ends, What is it gains him lots o' friends?

It's sooap.