XVI That was the first time, too, that ever I thought of death. There lay the sweet little body that never had drawn a breath. I had not wept, little Anne, not since I had been a wife; 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: Kind, like a man, was he; like a man, too, would have his way: Never jealous-not he: we had many a happy year; so near. XIX But I wish'd it had been God's will that I, too, then could have died: I began to be tired a little, and fain had slept at his side. And that was ten years back, or more, if I don't forget: But as to the children, Annie, they're all about me yet. XX Pattering over the boards, my Annie who left me at two, Patter she goes, my own little Annie, an Annie like you: Pattering over the boards, she comes and goes at her will, While Harry is in the five-acre and Charlie ploughing the bill. 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 bed I 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 : And the neighbours come and laugh and gossip, and so do I; I find myself often laughing at things that have long gone by. XXIV To be sure the preacher says, our sins should make us sad: But mine is a time of peace, and there is Grace to be had; And God, not man, is the Judge of us all when life shall cease; And in this Book, little Annie, the message is one of Peace. XXV And age is a time of peace, so it be free from pain, And happy has been my life; but I would not live it again. XXVI So Willy has gone, my beauty, my eldest-born, my flower; But how can I weep for Willy, he has but gone for an hour, Gone for a minute, my son, from this room into the next; I, too, shall go in a minute. What time have I to be vext? XXVII And Willy's wife has written, she never was overwise. eyes. There is but a trifle left you, when I shall have past away. But stay with the old woman now: you cannot have long to stay. CXVI NORTHERN FARMER OLD STYLE I 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 yaäle: but I beänt a fool: Git ma my yaäle, for I beänt a-gooin' to break my rule. II Doctors, they knaws nowt, for a says what's nawways true: III Parson's a beän loikewoise, an' a sittin 'ere o' my bed. "The amoighty's a taäkin o' you to 'issén, my friend," a said, An' a towd ma my sins, an's toithe were due, an' I gied it in hond; I done my duty by un, as I 'a done by the lond. IV Larn'd a ma' beä. I reckons I 'annot sa mooch to larn. An' i' the woost o' toimes I wur niver agin the raäte. V An' I hallus comed to 's choorch afoor moy Sally wur deäd, An' 'eerd un a bummin' awaäy loike a buzzard-clock * ower my yeäd, An' I niver knaw'd whot a meän'd but I thowt a 'ad summut to saäy, An I thowt a said whot a owt to 'a said an' I comed awaäy. * Cockchafer. VI Bessy Marris's barn! tha knaws she laäid it to meä. VII But Parson a comes an' a goos, an' a says it easy an' freeä "The amoighty's a taäkin' o' you to 'issén, my friend," says 'eä. I weänt saäy men be loiars, thof summun said it in 'aäste: But a reäds wonn sarmin a weeäk, an' I 'a stubb'd Thornaby waäste. VIII D'ya moind the waäste, my lass? naw, naw, tha was not born then; Theer wur a boggle in it, I often 'eerd un mysen; * Moäst loike a butter-bump, for I 'eerd un aboot an' aboot, But I stubb'd un oop wi' the lot, an' raäved an' rembled un oot. IX Keäper's it wur; fo' they fun un theer a-laäid on 'is faäce Doon i' the woild 'enemies † afoor I comed to the plaäce. Noäks or Thimbleby-toner 'ed shot un as deäd as a naäil. Noäks wur 'ang'd for it oop at 'soize-but git ma my yaäle. X Dubbut looäk at the waäste: theer warn't not feäd for a COW: Nowt at all but bracken an' fuzz, an' looäk at it now- XI 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, XII Do godamoighty knaw what a's doing a-taäkin' o' meä? XIII A mowt 'a taäken Joänes, as 'ant a 'aäpoth o' sense, XIV Looäk 'ow quoloty smoiles when they sees ma a passin' by, Says to thessén naw doot "what a mon a beä sewer-ly !" For they knaws what I beän to Squoire sin fust a comed to the 'All; I done my duty by Squoire an' I done my duty by all. Squoire's in Lunnon, an' summun I reckons 'ull 'a to wroite, For who's to howd the lond ater meä thot muddles ma quoit ; Sartin-sewer I beä, thot a weänt niver give it to Joänes, Noither a moänt to Robins-a niver rembles the stoäns. XVI But summun 'ull come ater meä mayhap wi' 'is kittle o' steäm Huzzin' an' maäzin' the blessed feälds wi' the Divil's oän teäm. Gin I mun doy I mun doy, an' loife they says is sweet, XVII What atta stannin' theer for, an' doesn bring ma the yaäle ? Doctor's a 'tottler, lass, an a's hallus i' the owd taäle; I weänt break rules for Doctor, a knaws naw moor nor a floy; Git ma my yaäle I tell tha, an' gin I mun doy I mun doy. |