A song I sing o' t' Yorkshire dales, That winnd frae t' moors to t' sea; Frae t' breast o' t' fells, wheer t' cloud-rack sails, Their becks flow merrily. Their banks are breet wi' moss an' broom,...
On many Yorkshire farms it was perhaps still is the custom to tell the bees when a death had taken place in the family. The hive had to be put into mourning, and when the arval, or funeral feast, was held, after the return from...
Lang-haired gauvies(1) coom my way, drawin' t' owd abbey an' brig, All their crack is o' Art-staities an' picturs an' paints; Want to put me on their canvas, donned i' my farmer's rig,...
Draw back my curtains, Mary, An' oppen t' windey wide; Ay, ay, I know I'm deein', While to-morn I'll hardlins bide. But yit afore all's ovver, An' I lig cowd as snow,...
There's dew upon the meadows, An' bats are wheelin' high; The sun has set an hour sin', An' evenin' leet's i' t' sky. Swalows i' t' thack are sleepin , Neet-hawks are swift on t' wing,...
Why! Bobbie, so thou's coom agean! I'm fain to see thee here; It's lang sin I've set een on thee, It's ommost hauf a yeer. What's that thou says? Thou's taen a wife An' raised a family....
Thou wants my vote, young man wi' t' carpet-bags, Weel, sit thee down, an' hark what I've to say. It's noan so varry oft wer kitchen flags Are mucked by real live lords down Yelland(1) way. ...
Ay, I'm a ranter, so at least fowks say; Happen they'd tell t' same tale o' t' postle Paul. I've ranted fifty yeer, coom first o' May, An' niver changed my gospil through 'em all. ...
The miller by the shore am I, A man o' despert sense; I've fotty different soorts o' ways O' addlin' honest pence. Good wheat and wuts and barley-corns My mill grinds all t' day lang ;...
I niver thowt when I grew owd I'd tak to leetin' lamps; I sud have said, I'd rayther pad My hoof on t' road wi' tramps. But sin I gate that skelp(1) i' t' mine, I'm wankle(2) i' my heead;...