Old London Bridge - Only for Poets

Old London  Bridge - Only  for Poets
Connecting the Poets who digging heart of me Still death - Sabarnasri

HEARTY WELCOME & HAVE A NICE STAY

Monday, May 18, 2009

ALFRED TENNYSON - NORTHERN FARMER.

ALFRED TENNYSON

NORTHERN FARMER.

I.
Wheer 'asta bean saw long and mea liggin' 'ere
aloan?
Noorse? thoort nowt o' a noorse: whoy, doctor's abean
an' agoan:
Says that I moant 'a naw moor yaale: but I beant a
fool:
Git ma my yaale, fur I beant a-gooin' to break my
rule.

II.
Doctors, they knaws nowt, for a says what's nawways
true:
Naw soort o' koind o' use to saay the things that
a do.
I've 'ed my point o' yaale ivry noight sin' I bean
'ere,
An' I've 'ed my quart ivry market-noight for foorty
year.

III.
Parson's a bean loikewoise, an' a sittin' ere o' my
bed.
`The amoighty's a taakin o' you to 'issen, my friend,'
'a said,
An' a towd ma my sins, an's toithe were due, an' I gied
it in hond;
I done my duty by un, as I 'a done by the
lond.

IV.
Larn'd a ma' bea. I reckons I 'annot sa mooch to
larn.
But a cost oop, thot a did, 'boot Bessy Marris's
barn.
Thof a knaws I hallus voated wi' Squoire an' choorch
an staate,
An' i' the woost o' toimes I wur niver agin the
raate.

V.
An' I hallus comed to 's choorch afoor moy Sally wur
dead,
An' 'eerd un a bummin' awaay loike a buzzard-clock*
ower my yead,
An' I niver knaw'd whot a mean'd but I thowt a 'ad
summut to saay,
An I thowt a said whot a owt to 'a said an' I comed
awaay.
*Cockchafer.

VI.
Bessy Marris's barn! tha knaws she laaid it to
mea.
Mowt 'a bean, mayhap, for she wur a bad un,
shea.
'Siver, I kep un, I kep un, my lass, tha mun under-
stond;
I done my duty by un as I 'a done by the
lond.

VII.
But Parson a comes an' a goos, an' a says it easy an'
freea
`The amoighty's a taakin o' you to 'issen, my friend,'
says 'ea.
I weant saay men be loiars, thof summun said it in
'aaste:
But a reads wonn sarmin a weeak, an' I 'a stubb'd
Thornaby waaste.

VIII.
D'ya moind the waaste, my lass? naw, naw, tha was
not born then;
Theer wur a boggle in it, I often 'eerd un
mysen;
Moast loike a butter-bump,* for I 'eerd un aboot an
aboot,
But I stubb'd un oop wi' the lot, an' raaved an
rembled un oot.
*Bittern.

IX.
Keaper's it wur; fo' they fun un theer a laaid on 'is
faace
Doon i' the woild 'enemies* afoor I comed to the
plaace.
Noaks or Thimbleby--toner 'ed shot un as dead as
a naail.
Noaks wur 'ang'd for it oop at 'soize--but git ma
my yaale.
*Anenomes.

X.
Dubbut looak at the waaste: theer warn't not fead
for a cow:
Nowt at all but bracken an' fuzz, an' looak at it
now--
Warn't worth nowt a haacre, an' now theer's lots o'
fead,
Fourscore yows upon it an' some on it doon in
sead.

XI.
Nobbut a bit on it's left, an' I mean'd to 'a stubb'd
it at fall,
Done it ta-year I mean'd, an' runn'd plow thruff it
an' all,
If godamoighty an' parson 'ud nobbut let ma
aloan,
Mea, wi' haate oonderd haacre o' Squoire's an' lond
o' my oan.

XII.
Do godamoighty knaw what a's doing a-taakin' o'
mea?
I beant wonn as saws 'ere a bean an' yonder a
pea;
An' Squoire 'ull be sa mad an' all--a' dear a'
dear!
And I 'a monaged for Squoire come Michaelmas
thirty year.

XIII.
A mowt 'a taaken Joanes, as 'ant a 'aapoth o'
sense,
Or a mowt a' taaken Robins--a niver mended a
fence:
But godamoighty a moost taake mea an' taake ma
now
Wi 'auf the cows to cauve an' Thornaby holms to
plow!

XIV.
Looak 'ow quoloty smoiles when they sees ma a
passin' by,
Says to thessen naw doot `what a mon a be
sewer-ly!'
For they knaws what I bean to Squoire sin fust a
comed to the 'All;
I done my duty by Squoire an' I done my duty
by all.

XV.
Squoire's in Lunnon, an' summun I reckons 'ull 'a to
wroite,
For who's to howd the lond ater mea thot muddles
ma quoit;
Sartin-sewer I bea, thot a weant niver give it to
Joanes,
Noither a moant to Robins--a niver rembles the
stoans.

XVI.
But summun 'ull come ater mea mayhap wi' 'is kittle
o' steam
Huzzin' an' maazin' the blessed fealds wi' the Divil's
oan team.
Gin I mun doy I mun doy, an' loife they says is
sweet,
But gin I mun doy I mun doy, for I couldn abear to
see it.

XVII.
What atta stannin' theer for, an' doesn bring ma the
yaale?
Doctor's a 'tottler, lass, an a's hallus i' the owd
taale;
I weant break rules for Doctor, a knaws naw moor
nor a floy;
Git ma my yaale, I tell tha, an' gin I mun doy I
mun doy.

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