Northern Farmer: Old Style

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.
     Parson 's 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 amoighty 's 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'd to the plaäce.
   Noäks or Thimbleby--toäner 'ed shot 'um as dead as a naäil.
   Noäks wur 'ang'd for it opp at 'soize--but git ma my aäle.

    Dubbut looök at the waäaste; theer warn't not feeäd for a cow;
   Nowt at all but bracken an' fuzz, an' looök at it now--
   Warn't worth nowt a haäcre, an' now theer 's lots o' feeäd,
   Fourscoor yows upon it, an' some on it down i' seeäd.

    Nobbut a bit on it 's left, an' I meän'd to 'a stubb'd it at fall,
   Done it ta-year I meän'd, an' runn'd plow thruff it an' all,
   If godamoighty an' parson 'ud nobbut let ma aloän,--
   Meä, wi haäte hoonderd haäcre o' Squoire's, an' lond o' my oän.

    Do godamoighty knaw what a's doing a-taäkin' o' meä?
   I beänt wonn as saws 'ere a beän an yonder a peä;
   An' Squoire 'ull be sa mad an' all--a' dear, a' dear!
   And I 'a managed for Squoire coom Michaelmas thutty year.

    A mowt 'a taäen owd Joänes, as 'ant not a 'aäpoth o' sense,
   Or a mowt a' taäen young Robins--a niver mended a fence:
   But godamoighty a moost taäke meä an' taäke ma now,
   Wi' aäf the cows to cauve an' Thurnaby hoälms to plow!

    Looök 'ow quoloty smoiles when they seeäs ma a passin' boy,
   Says to thessén, naw doubt, "What a man a beä sewer-loy!"
   Fur they knaws what I beän to Squoire sin' fust a coom'd to the 'All;
   I done moy duty by Squoire an' I done moy duty boy hall.

    Squoire 's i' Lunnon, an' summun I reckons 'ull 'a to wroite,
   For whoa 's to howd the lond ater meä that muddles ma quoit;
   Sartin-sewer I beä, thot a weänt niver give it to Joänes,
   Naw, nor a moänt to Robins--a niver rembles the stoäns.

    But summun 'ull come ater meä mayhap wi' 'is kittle o' steäm
   Huzzin' an' maazin' the blessed feälds wi' the Divil's oän teäm.
   Sin' I mun doy I mun doy, thaw loife they says is sweet,
   But sin' I mun doy I mun doy, for I couldn abeär to see it.

    What atta stannin' theer fur, an' doesn bring me t