THOO knaws, dear Lord, I wurn’t one
For ever begging on Thee,
‘At when my lile sorrows came
I suffered silently;
For folk so often ask Thy help
When they should aid thersen,
An’ same as sparks fly up, I knaw
‘At trouble cooms to men.
“But sitha! I’se at my wit’s end,
An’ noo I need a hand,
I’se fought like hell, withooten Thee;
But Thoo wilt onderstand,
“For Thoo dost knaw about my lads,
‘At my owd lass is ailin’,
‘At t’ farm is mortgaged up to t’ roof,
An’ hay an’ roots is failin’;
“Two hundred year have we been here,
It’s terrible hard to quit . . .
Tho’ I’se nigh broken, give me, Lord,
Grit to work on wi’-Grit!”
(Dorothy Una Ratcliffe)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Hell Poems, Wit PoemsBased on Keywords: knaw, mortgaged, thersen, thoo, owd, cooms, lile, failin, knaws, ailin, onderstand