SO t’ Doctor thinks ‘at my time is nigh:
But does yon gomerill knaw
This is no time for a man to die
Wi’ t’ dale knee-deep i’ snaw!
Ay, Lass, it’s fair to see ‘at I’se done,
‘At I’ll soon be under t’ sod;
But eneugh! thoo’ll see-while t’ lads have won
My sheep, I’ll ho’d my ho’d!
More nor a hundred still to seek?
Ther are no hands to spare
For layin’ me by. Nay! tho’ I’m weak
I’ll last while Lammas Fair.
“Parson’s coomin’!” His help ‘ull keep,
Damn it! he means reet well,
But my soul’s wi’ my snowed-up sheep
Fassened oot on Carlin Fell.
T’ neet ‘ull be dree an’ bitterly cold . . .
Yon Parson an’ Doctor-man, tell
Baith on ’em while my sheep are i’ t’ fold
I live: by God! an’ I will!
“At t’ Lord’s own time?” Nay, have no fear;
“Swearin’!” O’ course it’s a sin-
Would t’ Good Shepherd call me fra’ here
While my sheep are gathered in?
(Dorothy Una Ratcliffe)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, God Poems, Time Poems, Fairness Poems, Fear Poems, Sin PoemsBased on Keywords: reet, oot, knee-deep, neet, layin, knaw, dree, swearin, eneugh, carlin, coomin