THE GRANDMOTHER. 1. AND Willy, my eldest-born, is gone, you say, little Anne? II. For, Annie, you see, her father was not the man to save, III. Willy, my beauty, iny eldest-born, the flower of the flock; Never a man could fling him: for Willy stood like a rock. 'Here's a leg for a babe of a week!' says doctor; and he would be bound, There was not his like that year in twenty parishes round. IV. Strong of his hands, and strong on his legs, but still of his tongue! I ought to have gone before him: I wonder he went so young. I cannot cry for him, Annie: I have not long to stay; Perhaps I shall see him the sooner, for he lived far away. V. Why do you look at me, Annie? you think I am hard and cold; VI. For I remember a quarrel I had with your father, my dear, I mean your grandfather, Annie: it cost me a world of woe, VII. For Jenny, my cousin, had come to the place, and I knew right well VIII. And the parson made it his text that week, and he said likewise, IX. And Willy had not been down to the farm for a week and a day; X. And I cried myself well-nigh blind, and all of an evening late I climb'd to the top of the garth, and stood by the road at the gate. The moon like a rick on fire was rising over the dale, And whit, whit, whit, in the bush beside me chirrupt the nightingale. XI. All of a sudden he stopt: there past by the gate of the farm, XII. Willy stood up like a man, and look'd the thing that he meant; XIII. And he turn'd, and I saw his eyes all wet, in the sweet moonshine: XIV. 'Marry you, Willy!' said I, 'but I needs must speak my mind, And I fear you'll listen to tales, be jealous and hard and unkind.' But he turn'd and claspt me in his arms, and answer'd, 'No, love, no;' Seventy years ago, my darling, seventy years ago. XV. So Willy and I were wedded: I wore a lilac gown; And the ringers rang with a will, and he gave the ringers a crown. But the first that ever I bare was dead before he was born, Shadow and shine is life, little Annie, flower and thorn. XVI. That was the first time, too, that ever I thought of death. But I wept like a child that day, for the babe had fought for his life. XVII. His dear little face was troubled, as if with anger or pain: I look'd at the still little body—his trouble had all been in vain. For Willy I cannot weep, I shall see him another morn: But I wept like a child for the child that was dead before he was born. XVIII. But he cheer'd me, my good man, for he seldom said me nay: And he died, and I could not weep my own time seem'd so near. XIX. But I wish'd it had been God's will that I, too, then could have died: XX. Pattering over the boards, my Annie who left me at two, XXI. And Harry and Charlie, I hear them too they sing to their team: Often they come to the door in a pleasant kind of a dream. They come and sit by my chair, they hover about my bedI am not always certain if they be alive or dead. XXII. And yet I know for a truth, there's none of them left alive; And Willy, my eldest-born, at nigh threescore and ten; XXIII. For mine is a time of peace, it is not often I grieve; I am oftener sitting at home in my father's farm at eve: XXIV. To be sure the preacher says, our sins should make us sad: XXV. And age is a time of peace, so it be free from pain, XXVI. So Willy has gone, my beauty, my eldest-born, my flower; I, too, shall go in a minute. What time have I to be vext? XXVII. And Willy's wife has written, she never was over-wise. NORTHERN FARMER. OLD STYLE. 1. WHEER 'asta beän saw long and meä liggin' 'ere aloän? Noorse? thourt 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 break my rule. II. Doctors, they knaws nowt, fur a says what's nawways true: III. Parson's a beän loikewoise, an' a sittin' 'ere o' my bed. An' a towd ma my sins, an's toithe were due, an' I gied it in hond; IV. 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. 1 ou as in hour. |