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Wheer ̛asta beän saw long and meä liggin’ ̛ere aloän?
Noorse? thoort nowt o’ a noorse: whoy, Doctor’s abeän an’ agoän;
Says that I moänt ̛a naw moor aäle; but I beänt a fool;
Git ma my aäle, fur I beänt a-gawin’ to breäk my rule.

Doctors, they knaws nowt, fur a says what ̛s nawways true;
Naw soort o’ koind o’ use to saäy the things that a do.
I’ve ̛ed my point o’ aäle ivry noight sin’ I beän ̛ere.
An’ I’ve ̛ed my quart ivry market-noight for foorty year.

Parson̛s a beän loikewoise, an’ a sittin’ ere o’ my bed.
“The amoighty’s a taäkin o’ you to ̛isén, my friend,” a said,
An’ a towd ma my sins, an’s toithe were due, an’ I gied it in hond;
I done moy duty boy ̛um, as I ̛a done boy the lond.

Larn’d a ma’beä. I reckons I ̛annot sa mooch to larn.
But a cast oop, thot a did, ̛bout Bessy Marris’s barne.
Thaw a knaws I hallus voäted wi’ Squoire an’ choorch an’ staäte,
An’ i’ the woost o’ toimes I wur niver agin the raäte.

An’ I hallus coom’d to ̛s choorch afoor moy Sally wur deäd,
An’ ̛eard ̛um a bummin’ awaäy loike a buzzard-clock ower me ̛eäd,
An’ I niver knaw’d whot a meän’d but a thowt ä ̛ad summut to saäy.
An’ I thowt a said what a owt to ̛a said, an’ I coom’d awaäy.

Bessy Marris’s barne! tha knaws she laäid it to meä.
Mowt a beän, mayhap, for she wur a bad un, sheä.
̛Siver, I kep ̛um, I kep ̛um, my lass, tha mun understond;
I done moy duty boy ̛um, as I ̛a done boy the lond.

But Parson a cooms an’ a goäs, an’ a says it easy an’ freeä:
“The amoighty̛s taäkin o’ you to ̛issén, my friend,” says ̛eä.
I weänt saäy men be loiars, thaw summun said it in ̛aäste;
But ̛e reäds wonn sarmin a weeäk, an’ I ̛a stubb’d Thurnaby waäste.

D’ ya moind the waäste, my lass? naw, naw, tha was not born then;
Theer wur a boggle in it, I often ̛eärd ̛um mysén;
Moäst loike a butter-bump, fur I ̛eärd ̛um about an’ about,
But I stubb’d ̛um oop wi’ the lot, an’ raäved an’ rembled ̛um out.

Keäper’s it wur; fo’ they fun ̛um theer a-laäid of is’ faäce
Down i’ the woild ̛enemies afoor I coom’…

Wheer ̛asta beän saw long and meä liggin’ ̛ere aloän? Noorse? thoort nowt o’ a noorse: whoy, Doctor’s abeän an’ agoän; Says that I moänt ̛a naw moor aäle; but I beänt a fool; Git ma my aäle, fur I beänt a-gawin’ to breäk my rule. Doctors, they knaws nowt, fur a says what ̛s nawways true; Naw soort o’ koind o’ use to saäy the things that a do. I’ve ̛ed my point o’ aäle ivry noight sin’ I beän ̛ere. An’ I’ve ̛ed my quart ivry market-noight for foorty year. Parson̛s a beän loikewoise, an’ a sittin’ ere o’ my bed. “The amoighty’s a taäkin o’ you to ̛isén, my friend,” a said, An’ a towd ma my sins, an’s toithe were due, an’ I gied it in hond; I done moy duty boy ̛um, as I ̛a done boy the lond. Larn’d a ma’beä. I reckons I ̛annot sa mooch to larn. But a cast oop, thot a did, ̛bout Bessy Marris’s barne. Thaw a knaws I hallus voäted wi’ Squoire an’ choorch an’ staäte, An’ i’ the woost o’ toimes I wur niver agin the raäte. An’ I hallus coom’d to ̛s choorch afoor moy Sally wur deäd, An’ ̛eard ̛um a bummin’ awaäy loike a buzzard-clock ower me ̛eäd, An’ I niver knaw’d whot a meän’d but a thowt ä ̛ad summut to saäy. An’ I thowt a said what a owt to ̛a said, an’ I coom’d awaäy. Bessy Marris’s barne! tha knaws she laäid it to meä. Mowt a beän, mayhap, for she wur a bad un, sheä. ̛Siver, I kep ̛um, I kep ̛um, my lass, tha mun understond; I done moy duty boy ̛um, as I ̛a done boy the lond. But Parson a cooms an’ a goäs, an’ a says it easy an’ freeä: “The amoighty̛s taäkin o’ you to ̛issén, my friend,” says ̛eä. I weänt saäy men be loiars, thaw summun said it in ̛aäste; But ̛e reäds wonn sarmin a weeäk, an’ I ̛a stubb’d Thurnaby waäste. D’ ya moind the waäste, my lass? naw, naw, tha was not born then; Theer wur a boggle in it, I often ̛eärd ̛um mysén; Moäst loike a butter-bump, fur I ̛eärd ̛um about an’ about, But I stubb’d ̛um oop wi’ the lot, an’ raäved an’ rembled ̛um out. Keäper’s it wur; fo’ they fun ̛um theer a-laäid of is’ faäce Down i’ the woild ̛enemies afoor I coom’…

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Alfred Lord Tennyson - "Northern Farmer: Old Style"

(from a great set of Lincolnshire dialect poems).

#poem #poetry #tennyson #dialectpoetry #dialectpoem #lincolnshire
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