Part 5 (1/2)
May ague twist, an' strike him dumb!
May fairies nip his liver out An' leave him nare a tongue to shout.
Forsaking me, all loansome here With iverything what's wrong and queer.
From out my winder, where I sit I see the willows round yon pit: Dark Pit where Moller Holmes was found As some said,--accidental drowned!-- But I heard screechin', terrified, About the time he must a died!
Having noa bottom, soa they say; It's dreadful secrets there must stay Until the Resurrection Day!
Oh where the Devil is that Tom?
I'll give him 'pub' when he gits hoam: The wind is moanin' round that Pit As if somebody wished to flit: There's Things in there what stirs by night An' if you see, yer hair turns white; Around, they say, the Mandrake grows What's pulled at dead of night by _those_ Who little care although it screams To wake poor mortals from their dreams.
Our parson tells of Powers Evil: (An' Providence can't beat the Devil) Where should they laay, but in yon Pit?
What makes me squirl to think on it: All gashly arms a-reachin' out To clamber up yer water spout An' reach you through-- Oh Lor!
_Who's that?_ 'Tis something comin'
I hear _it_ hummin'....
My dear good Tom! Thank G.o.d it's him!
I was afraid of something grim-- I've bin a-wantin' you soa long-- You lousy mawkin', stinkin' strong Of beer an' bacca! Off to bed!
I'll larn yer, Thomas, who you've wed: 'Fore morn, you'll wish as you was dead.
One Day
I read you poems all the day, And all the night I dreamed of you, Wild nightmares riding sweet sleep through, Whilst all the time I longed to say More tenderly, my roundelay, And ardently with verse to woo.
I read you poems all the day; You gave them up again to me, For all the night I seemed to see Your face a vision on my way, As with the murmuring of streams Your voice commingled in my dreams.
I read you poems all the day; Ah! would that you could hear me now!
Accepting the unuttered vow My spirit yearned but dare not say: Yet still though you are far away I read you poems all the day.
No Wife
Tom! Tom! What yer think?
I've 'ed the Parson's wife The first time in 'er life, acrost our door!
What for?
What for? Why Tom, you'd niver niver guess!
Not if you lived as old as Grammer Bess What's lately swore She's a hunder an' four-- _She wants us two, to go off an' git spliced!_
Oh Christ!
What's got 'er now: The cow!
You well may swear; Coz 'ow she dare--an' why-- Will make you swear agen, or laugh--surelie!
Just light yer pipe Now you look comfortable--so You're rough--old Tom--I know-- Black as a crow!
But I'm fond on yer lad As any fool could see!
An' whether we're good or bad You've bin maain good ter me.
But--blast 'er silly eyes!
What yer say to 'er, then?
I said a lot!
I telled 'er what!
A-comin' ere wi' 'er fancy airs, 'Er what's never known no cares, Lookin' that wise-- Just coz she catched a Parson!