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Poetry of Alfred, Lord Tennyson

NORTHERN FARMER.
     old style.
  

     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.