Coortin Days.

A poem by John Hartley

Coortin days, - Coortin days, - loved one an lover!
What wod aw give if those days could come ovver?
Weddin is joyous, - its pleasur unstinted;
But coortin is th' sweetest thing ivver invented.
Walkin an talkin,
An nursin Love's spark,
Charmin an warmin
Tho th' neet may be dark.

Oh! but it's nice when yor way's long and dreary,
To walk wi yor arm raand th' waist ov yor dearie;
Tellin sweet falsehoods, the haars to beguile em,
(If yo tell'd em ith' dayleet they'd put yo ith' sylum.)
But ivverything's fair
I' love an i' war,
But be sewer to act square; -
An do if yo dar!

Squeezin an kissin an kissin an squeezin, -
Laughin an coughin an ticklin an sneezin, -
But remember, - if maybe, sich knowledge yo lack,
Allus smile in her face, but, sneeze at her back.
Yo may think, if a fooil,
Sich a thing nivver mattered,
But a lass, as a rule,
Doesn't want to be spattered.

When th' coortin neet comes, tho' yor appetite's ragin,
Dooant fill up wi oonions, wi mar'gum an sage in,
Remember, the darlin, where centred yor bliss is,
Likes to fancy, yor livin on love an her kisses.
An yor linen, if plain,
Have all spotless an fresh:
Then shoo connot complain,
When shoo has it to wesh.

When Love's flame's been lit, an burst into a glow,
Th' best thing yo can do, - (that's as far as aw know;)
Is to goa to a parson an pay him his price,
An to join yo together he'll put in a splice,
Then together yo'll face
This world's battle an bother,
An if that isn't th' case,
Yo can feight for each other.

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