What Aw Want (John Hartley Poems)
Gie me a little humble cot, A bit o' garden graand,Set in some quiet an' sheltered spot, Wi' hills an' trees all ...
Gie me a little humble cot, A bit o' garden graand,Set in some quiet an' sheltered spot, Wi' hills an' trees all ...
Give it 'em hot, an be hanged to ther feelins! Souls may be lost wol yor choosin' yor words!Out wi' them ...
God bless ivery one raand yor table Wi' plenty to ait an' to spare; God bless yo an' mak yo all able To ...
Cambodunum, Cambodunum, how I love the sound o' t' name! Roman sowdiers belt a fort here, ...
I've lived all my life i' Keighley, I'm a Yorkshire artisan;An' when I were just turned seventy I ...
I niver thowt when I grew owd I'd tak to leetin' lamps; I sud have said, I'd rayther ...
Coom all you cutlin' heroes, where'ersome'er you be, All you what works at flat-backs, coom listen unto me; ...
The miller by the shore am I, A man o' despert sense;I've fotty different soorts o' ways O' ...
There's dew upon the meadows, An' bats are wheelin' high; The sun has set an hour sin', ...
A song I sing o' t' Yorkshire dales, That Winnd frae t' moors to t' sea; Frae t' ...
But now they are moaning, on ilka green loaningThe Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.Jane Elliot (1727-1805).O! day-time ...
I'd walk frae here to Skipton, Ten mile o' clarty(1) lanes,If I might see him face to face ...
One yeer owder, one yeer dearer: That's what I sal awlus say.Draw thy chair a little nearer, Put ...
'My stead's far end o' neeawheer,Neea lass wud care to settle there:Afore she died, my mother said,"It's time, dear lad, ...
Aa! sich a galeWill bring doon mony owd trees in t' dale. Two purl an' two plain.I wish ...
IT isn't fair to take my becks,My lile hidden tarn,My mossy springs, my waterfall,An' make all on 'em larnThi songs. ...
When throstles sing in ivery copse,An' blackies* vie wi' them,Roundy green are sycamore tops,An' meadows flower-trim,Then my luve goes a-laikin',a-laikin', ...
COOM, Cush-Luve, coom, thoo should be in thi byreBy t' edge o' dark,Instead o' gettin' thisen mucked in mire.Noo, just ...
I DIDN'T knaw neets could be lonesome, 'At day could be too long,'At weeks when thoo wur far fra' Dallow ...
Missis Moriarty called last week, and says she to me, says she: "Sure the heart of me's broken entirely now ...
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