Last winter, after sundown,
I’d spend an hour or so
Helpin’ thee wash up tea-things;
Aa! how those hours wud go!
Last Spring, of early evenings,
We walked oot: folk could see
‘At tho’ thoo hadn’t yet been axed
Yet I wur sweet on thee.
Last Summer, milkin’-times I’d coom
An’ have a canty* crack,
An’ if I left without a kiss
Thoo’a somehow call me back.
Then just a week ‘fore Halloween
I reckoned life withoot
Thi luve not worth a hayseed
Nor jenny hullet’s* hoot!
(Dorothy Una Ratcliffe)
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