Yorkshire Lyrics Poems written in the Dialect as Spoken in the West Riding of Yorkshire. To which are added a Selection of Fugitive Verses not in the Dialect — Context and Discussion
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The source record for Yorkshire Lyrics Poems written in the Dialect as Spoken in the West Riding of Yorkshire. To which are added a Selection of Fugitive Verses not in the Dialect — Context and Discussion measures this digital text at 84,469 words, 6 hr 8 min estimated reading time, and 9 detected text sections.
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Read the Text
They had no need of latch.
And close besides the corner There stood an old stone well, Which caught a mimic waterfall, That warbled as it fell.
The cat, crouched on the well-worn steps, Was blinking in the sun; The birds sang out a welcome To the morning just begun.
An air of peace and happiness Pervaded all the scene; The tall trees formed a back ground Of rich and varied green;
And all was steeped in quietness, Save nature's music wild, When all at once, methought I heard The sobbing of a child.
I listened, and the sound again Smote clearly on my ear: "Can there,"--I wondering asked myself-- "Can there be sorrow here?"--
I looked within, and on the floor Was sat a little boy, Striving to soothe his sister's grief By giving her a toy.
"Why weeps your sister thus?" I asked; "What is her cause of grief? Come tell me, little man," I said, "Come tell me, and be brief."
Clasping his sister closer still, He kissed her tear-stained face, And thus, in homely Yorkshire phrase, He told their mournful case.
"Mi mammy, sir, shoos liggin thear, I' th' shut-up bed i'th' nook; An' tho aw've tried to wakken her, Shoo'll nawther spaik nor look.
Mi sissy wants her porridge, An its time shoo had 'em too; But th' foir's gooan aght an th' mail's all done-- Aw dooant know what to do.
An O, my mammy's varry cold-- Just come an touch her arm: Aw've done mi best to hap her up, But connot mak her warm.
Mi daddy he once fell asleep, An nivver wakken'd moor: Aw saw 'em put him in a box, An tak him aght o'th' door.
He nivver comes to see us nah, As once he used to do, An let mi ride upon his back-- Me, an mi sissy too.
An if they know mi mammy sleeps, Soa cold, an white, an still, Aw'm feeard they'll come an fotch her, sir; O, sir, aw'm feeard they will!
Aw happen could get on misen, For aw con work a bit, But little sissy, sir, yo see, Shoo's varry young as yet.
Oh! dunnot let fowk tak mi mam! Help me to rouse her up! An if shoo wants her physic, See,--it's in this little cup.
Aw know her heead wor bad last neet, When putting us to bed; Shoo said, 'God bless yo, little things!' An that wor all shoo sed.
Aw saw a tear wor in her e'e-- In fact, it's seldom dry: Sin daddy went shoo allus cries, But nivver tells us why.
Aw think it's coss he isn't here, 'At maks her e'en soa dim; Shoo says, he'll nivver come to us, But we may goa to him.
But if shoo's gooan an left us here, What mun we do or say?-- We connot follow her unless, Somebody 'll show us th' way."
My heart was full to bursting, When I heard the woeful tale; I gazed a moment on the face Which death had left so pale;
Then clasping to my heaving breast The little orphan pair, I sank upon my bended knees, And offered up a prayer,
That God would give me power to aid Those children in distress, That I might as a father be Unto the fatherless.
Then coaxingly I led them forth; And as the road was long, I bore them in my arms by turns-- Their tears had made me strong.
I took them to my humble home, Where now they may be seen, The lad,--a noble-minded youth,-- His "sissy,"--beauty's queen.
And now if you should chance to see, Far from the bustling throng, An old man, whom a youth and maid Lead tenderly along;--
And if you, wondering, long to know The history of the three,-- They are the little orphan pair-- The poor old man is me:
And oft upon the grassy mound 'Neath which their parents sleep, They bend the knee, and pray for me; I pray for them and weep.
"Gooid gracious!" cried Susy, one fine summer's morn, "Here's a bonny to do! aw declare! Aw wor nivver soa capt sin th' day aw wor born! Aw neer saw sich a seet at a fair.
Here, Sally! come luk! There's a maase made its nest Reight i'th' craan o' mi new Sundy bonnet! Haivver its fun its way into this chist, That caps me! Aw'm fast what to mak on it!
It's cut! Sithee thear! It's run reight under th' bed! An luk here! What's these little things stirrin? If they arn't some young uns 'at th' gooid-for-nowt's bred, May aw be as deead as a herrin!
John Hartley's Yorkshire Lyrics opens with a dedication to his daughter Annie Sophie and an epigraph that announces his poetic stance: finding 'germs of poetry' in 'plain and common things.' The table of contents lists over 130 poems, many in the West Riding dialect, alongside a selection of 'Fugitive Verses' in standard English. The very first poem, 'Mi Darling Muse,' establishes the collection's intimate, self-deprecating tone—Hartley presents himself as an observer of everyday life rather than a scholar of 'Classic lore.' This editorial note examines how the opening, middle, and later excerpts guide a first reading, focusing on the poet's use of dialect, his recurring themes of domestic affection and social observation, and the structural choices that shape the reader's experience.
The Dialect as a Lens
The West Riding dialect is not merely decorative in Hartley's hands; it is the primary instrument through which he renders character and emotion. In 'Contrasts,' the speaker describes a London policeman who 'fling[s] yo wi a bump, / Flat o' yor back'—the dialect verb 'fling' and the pronoun 'yo' root the scene in a specific regional voice. Similarly, 'To Mally' uses the repeated 'tha' and 'aw' to create an intimate address between long-married partners: 'Tha grummeld o' thi weddin day,— / Tha's nivver stopt it yet.' The dialect here conveys both affection and gentle exasperation. Readers unfamiliar with the vocabulary will find that context often clarifies meaning; for instance, 'nop' (head of hair) and 'freat' (worry) become clear through the surrounding lines. Hartley's phonetic spelling—'shoo' for 'she,' 'aght' for 'out'—requires a slight adjustment but rewards with a vivid sense of spoken rhythm.
Domestic Affection and Mutual Dependence
Several poems in the excerpts center on marriage and household partnership, presenting them as practical, enduring bonds rather than romantic ideals. In 'To Mally,' the speaker acknowledges his wife's constant grumbling but values her reliability: 'Aw've proved 'at tha'rt booath true an kind,— / Ther's lots 'at's war nor thee.' The poem balances humor ('Tha tawks enuff for two') with genuine gratitude for her domestic labor: 'Tha cooks mi vittals, maks mi bed, / An finds me clooas to don.' Another excerpt describes a neighbor woman who 'sends what shoo can an allus her best' and 'sympathises as tho they were bairns ov her own.' These portraits emphasize mutual support within the community, where a good wife or neighbor is praised for practical kindness rather than beauty. The repeated phrase 'owd lad' in 'To Mally' and the closing of another poem suggests a tone of seasoned companionship.
Social Observation and Satirical Edge
Hartley's observational eye extends beyond the domestic sphere to social contrasts and human foibles. In 'Contrasts,' the speaker recounts a trip to London where a policeman's 'staff' leaves 'a lump' and 'fling[s] yo wi a bump.' The poem juxtaposes wealth and poverty: 'Virtues an vices side bi side,— / Poverty slinkin after pride.' The speaker questions whether 'all's just square,' admitting 'It's hard to mak sich things agree; / It isn't fair.' This direct, unadorned critique is characteristic of Hartley's style. 'Th' State o' th' Poll' offers a lighter satire: Sal Sanguine is distressed by her red hair, and a 'silly fop' jokes about pulling carrots from her head. The poem mocks vanity while sympathizing with the girl's frustration. These pieces show Hartley using dialect to voice opinions that might seem blunt in standard English, lending them an earthy authenticity.
Structure and Reading Path
The collection's arrangement—dialect poems first, followed by 'Fugitive Verses'—invites the reader to experience the regional voice as the primary mode, with the standard English pieces as a contrast or appendix. The excerpts suggest that Hartley often uses the same themes in both sections, but the dialect poems feel more immediate and personal. A first-time reader might begin with the shorter, anecdotal pieces like 'To Mally' or 'Contrasts' to acclimate to the dialect before tackling longer narratives. The poems vary in length from brief lyrics to extended stories; the table of contents includes titles like 'A Strange Stooary' and 'Billy Bumble's Bargain,' which promise narrative interest. The epigraph's claim to find poetry in 'plain and common things' is borne out by the subject matter: daisies, butterflies, weaving sheds, and Christmas puddings. Readers should expect a consistent voice rather than stylistic variety, and a worldview that values hard work, honesty, and community.
Hartley's Yorkshire Lyrics rewards readers who take the time to hear the dialect as spoken poetry. The poems are best read aloud, letting the rhythms of West Riding speech shape the experience. Pay attention to the recurring figures—the grumbling but devoted wife, the helpful neighbor, the skeptical observer of city life—as they build a coherent social world. The non-dialect verses offer a useful comparison, but the heart of the collection lies in the dialect pieces, where Hartley's voice is most distinctive. Approach the book as a series of encounters with a community, not as a unified narrative, and let the specific details of each poem accumulate into a portrait of a place and its people.
I found myself smiling over Hartley’s Yorkshire verses, those precise, homely reckonings of rain and ale and stubborn pride. It put me in mind of older voices, plucked from musty volumes, whose griefs and jests sound startlingly familiar. We borrow their words, yet the ache remains ours. There is a quiet kinship in Quaint Gleanings from Ancient Poetry A Collection of Curious Poetical Compositions of the XVIth, XVIIth, and XVIIIth Centuries — Background and Themes, a fellow traveller across centuries.
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