Читать книгу Revised Edition of Poems - Bill o'th' Hoylus End - Страница 10

Aw remember the days o’ mi bell-button jacket,

   Wi’ its little lappels hangin’ down ower mi waist,

An’ mi grand bellosed cap, – noan nicer I’ll back it, —

   Fer her at hed bowt it wur noan withaht taste;

Fer shoo wur mi mother an’ I wur her darling,

   An often shoo vowed it, an’ stroked dahn mi hair,

An’ shoo tuke ma to see her relashuns i’ Harden

   It furst Pair o’ Briches at ivver aw ware.

Aw remember the time when Aunt Betty an’ Alice

   Sent fer me up to lewk at mi cloas,

An aw wauked up as prahd as a Frenchman fra Calais,

   Wi’ mi tassel at t’side – i’ mi jacket a rose.

Aw sooin saw mi uncles, both Johnny an’ Willy,

   They both gav me pennies, an’ off aw did steer:

But aw heeard um say this, “He’s a fine lad is Billy,”

   It furst Pair o’ Briches at ivver aw ware.

Aw remember t’ time at ahr Robin and Johnny

   Wur keeping their hens an’ ducks i’ t’ yard,

Tha wur gamecocks an’ bantams, wi’ toppins so bonny,

   An’ noan on um mine – aw thowt it wur hard.

But aw saved up mi pennies aw gat fer mail pickin’,

   An’ sooin gat a shilling by saving it fair,

Aw then became maister at least o’ wun chicken,

   It furst Pair o’ Briches at ivver aw ware.

Aw remember wun Sabbath, an’ t’sun it wor shining,

   Aw went wi’ mi father ta Hainworth ta sing;

An’ t’stage wur hung raand wi’ bottle-green lining;

   And childer i’ white made t’ village ta ring.

We went ta owd Meshach’s that day ta wur drinkin’,

   Though poor, tha wur plenty, an’ summat ta spare;

Says Meshach, “That lad, Jim, is just thee, aw’m thinking,

   It furst Pair o’ Briches at ivver tha ware.”

Now them wur the days o’ grim boggards and witches,

   When Will-o’-the-wisp cud be seen in the swamp,

But nah are the days o’ cheating fer riches,

   An’ a poor honest man is classed wi’ a scamp.

Yes, them wur the days at mi mind worrant weary;

   O them wur the days aw knew no despair;

O give me the time o’ the boggard an’ fairy,

   Wi’ t’ furst Pair o’ Briches at ivver aw ware.

Ah! them wur the days aw sall allus remember,

   Sud aw just as owd as Mathusalah last;

Them wur mi March days, but nah it’s September:

   Ne’er to return again – them days are past.

But a time aw remember aboon onny other,

   Aw kneeled o’ mi knees an’ sed the Lord’s Prayer;

Aw sed “God bless mi father, an’ God bless mi mother,”

   It furst Pair o’ Briches at ivver aw ware.