John Hartley

Yorkshire Lyrics John Hartley

Mi Darling Muse. Mi darlin' Muse, aw coax and pet her, To pleeas yo, for aw like nowt better; An' if aw find aw connot get her To lend her aid, Into foorced measure then aw set her, The stupid jade! An' if mi lines dooant run as spreetly, Nor beam wi gems o' wit soa breetly, Place all the blame, -yo'll place it reightly, Upon her back; To win her smile aw follow neetly, Along her track. Maybe shoo thinks to stop mi folly, An let me taste o' melancholy; But just to spite her awl be jolly, An say mi say; Awl fire away another volley Tho' shoo says "Nay." We've had some happy times together, For monny years we've stretched our tether, An as aw dunnot care a feather For fowk 'at grummel, We'll have another try. Aye! whether We stand or tummel. Sometimes th' reward for all us trubble, Has been a crop o' scrunty stubble, But th' harvest someday may be double, At least we'll trust it; An them 'at say it's but a bubble, We'll leeav to brust it. To a Daisy, Found blooming March 7th. A'a awm feeared tha's come too sooin, Little daisy! Pray, whativer wor ta doin? Are ta crazy? Winter winds are blowin' yet, - Tha'll be starved, mi little pet. Did a gleam o' sunshine warm thee, An' deceive thee? Niver let appearance charm thee, For believe me, Smiles tha'll find are oft but snares, Laid to catch thee unawares. Still aw think it luks a shame, To tawk sich stuff; Aw've lost faith, an' tha'll do th' same, Hi, sooin enuff. If tha'rt happy as tha art Trustin' must be th' wisest part. Come, aw'll pile some bits o' stooan, Raand thi dwellin'; They may screen thee when aw've gooanm, Ther's no tellin'; An' when gentle spring draws near Aw'll release thee, niver fear. An' if then thi pretty face, Greets me smilin'; Aw may come an' sit bith' place, Time beguilin'; Glad to think aw'd paar to be, Of some use, if but to thee.