Northern Farmer (Old Style)
By Alfred Lord Tennyson
Wheer asta ben saw long and me liggin ere alon?
Noorse? thoort nowt o a noorse: whoy, doctors aben an agon:
Says that I mont a naw moor ale: but I bent a fool:
Git ma my ale, fur I bent a-gooin to brek my rule.
II.
Doctors, they knaws nowt, for a says whats nawways true:
Naw soort o koind o use to say the things that a do.
Ive ed my point o ale ivry noight sin I ben ere,
An Ive ed my quart ivry market-noight for foorty year.
III.
Parsons a ben loikewoise, an a sittin ere o my bed.
The amoightys a takin o you to issn, my friend, a said,
An a towd ma my sins, ans toithe were due, an I gied it in hond;
I done my duty by un, as I a done by the lond.
IV.
Larnd a ma be. I reckons I annot sa mooch to larn.
But a cast oop, thot a did, boot Bessy Marriss barn.
Thaw a knaws I hallus voted wi Squoire an choorch an state,
An i the woost o toimes I wur niver agin the rate.
V.
An I hallus comed to s choorch afoor moy Sally wur ded,
An erd um a bummin away loike a buzzard-clock ower my ed,
An I niver knawd whot a meand but I thowt a ad summut to say,
An I thowt a said whot a owt to a said an I comed away.
VI.
Bessy Marriss barn! tha knaws she laid it to me.
Mowt a ben, mayhap, for she wur a bad un, she.
Siver, I kep un, I kep un, my lass, tha mun understond;
I done my duty by un as I a done boy the lond.
VII.
But Parson a comes an a gos, an a says it easy an free
The amoightys a takin o you to issen, my friend, says e.
I went say men be loiars, thof summun said it in aste:
But a reds wonn sarmin a week, an I a stubbd Thornaby waste.
VIII.
Dya moind the waste, my lass? naw, naw, tha was not born then;
Theer wur a boggle in it, I often erd um mysen;
Most loike a butter-bump, for I erd um about an about,
But I stubbd un oop wi the lot, an raved an rembled um out.
IX.
Kepers it wur; fo they fun um theer a laid on is face
Down i the woild enemies afoor I coomd to the place.
Noks or Thimblebytoner ed shot un as ded as a nail.
Noks wur angd for it oop at soizebut git ma my ale.
X.
Dubbut look at the waste: theer warnt not feed for a cow:
Nowt at all but bracken an fuzz, an look at it now
Warnt worth nowt a hacre, an now theers lots o feed,
Fourscoor yows upon it an some on it down i seed.
XI.
Nobbut a bit on its left, an I mend to a stubbd it at fall,
Done it ta-year I mend, an runnd plow thruff it an all,
If godamoighty an parson ud nobbut let ma alon,
Me, wi hate hoonderd hacre o Squoires, an lond o my on.
XII.
Do godamoighty knaw what as doing a-takin o me?
I bent wonn as saws ere a ben an yonder a pe;
An Squoire ull be sa mad an alla dear a dear!
And I a managed for Squoire coom Michaelmas thutty year.
XIII.
A mowt a taen owd Jones, as ant a apoth o sense,
Or a mowt a taen young Robinsa niver mended a fence:
But godamoighty a moost take me an take ma now
Wi af the cows to cauve an Thornaby holms to plow!
XIV.
Loook ow quoloty smoiles when they sees ma a passin by,
Says to thessn naw doot what a mon a be sewer-loy!
For they knaws what I ben to Squoire sin fust a coomd to the All;
I done moy duty by Squoire an I done my duty boy all.
XV.
Squoires in Lunnon, an summun I reckons ull a to wroite,
For whos to howd the lond ater me thot muddles ma quoit;
Sartin-sewer I be, thot a went niver give it to Jones,
Naw, nor a mont to Robinsa niver rembles the stons.
XVI.
But summun ull come ater me mayhap wi is kittle o steam
Huzzin an mazin the blessed felds wi the Divils oan tem.
Sin I mun doy I mun doy, thaw loife they says is sweet,
But sin I mun doy I mun doy, for I couldn aber to see it.
XVII.
What atta stannin theer for, an doesn bring ma the ale?
Doctors a tottler, lass, an as hallus i the owd tale;
I went break rules fur Doctor, a knaws naw moor nor a floy;
Git ma my ale I tell tha, an if I mun doy I mun doy.