LAST winter, after sundown,
I’d spend an hour or so
Helpin’ thee wash up tea-things;
Aa! how those hours would 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 wivoot a kiss
Thoo’d somehow call me back.
Then just a week ‘fore Hallowe’en
I reckoned life wivoot
Thi luve not worth a hayseed
Nor jenny-hullet’s hoot!
(Dorothy Una Ratcliffe)
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