Stop at Hooam.

A poem by John Hartley

"Tha wodn't goa an leave me, Jim,
All lonely by mysel?
My een at th' varry thowts grow dim -
Aw connot say farewell.

Tha vow'd tha couldn't live unless
Tha saw me every day,
An' said tha knew noa happiness
When aw wor foorced away.

An th' tales tha towld, I know full weel,
Wor true as gospel then;
What is it, lad, 'at ma's thee feel
Soa strange - unlike thisen?

Ther's raam enuff, aw think tha'll find,
I'th taan whear tha wor born,
To mak a livin, if tha'll mind
To ha' faith i' to-morn.

Aw've mony a time goan to mi wark
Throo claads o' rain and sleet;
All's seem'd soa dull, soa drear, an' dark,
It ommust mud be neet.

But then, when braikfast time's come raand,
Aw've seen th' sun's cheerin ray,
An' th' heavy lukkin claads have slunk
Like skulkin lads away.

An' then bi nooin it's shooan soa breet
Aw've sowt some shade to rest,
An' as aw've paddled hooam at neet,
Glorious it's sunk i'th west.

An' tho' a claad hangs ovver thee,
(An' trouble's hard to bide),
Have patience, lad, an' wait an' see
What's hid o'th' tother side.

If aw wor free to please mi mind,
Aw'st niver mak this stur;
But aw've a mother ommust blind,
What mud become o' her?

Tha knows shoo cared for me, when waik
An' helpless ivery limb,
Aw'm feeard her poor owd heart ud braik
If aw'd to leave her, Jim.

Aw like to hear thee talk o' th' trees
'At tower up to th' sky,
An' th' burds 'at flutterin i'th' breeze,
Lie glitterin' jewels fly.

Woll th' music of a shepherd's reed
May gently float along,
Lendin its tender notes to lead
Some fair maid's simple song;

An' flaars 'at grow o' ivery side,
Such as we niver see;
But here at hooam, at ivery stride,
There's flaars for thee an' me.

Aw care net for ther suns soa breet,
Nor warblin melody;
Th' clink o' thi clogs o' th' flags at neet
Saands sweeter, lad, to me.

An' tho' aw wear a gingham gaan,
A claat is noa disgrace;
Tha'll niver find a heart moor warm
Beat under silk or lace.

Then settle daan, tak my advice,
Give up this wish to rooam!
An' if tha luks, tha'll find lots nice
Worth stoppin' for at hooam."

"God bless thee, Jenny! dry that e'e,
An' gi'e us howd thi hand!
For words like thoase, throo sich as thee,
What mortal could withstand!

It isn't mich o'th' world aw know,
But aw con truly say,
A faithful heart's too rich to throw
Withaat a thowt away.

So here aw'll stay, and should fate fraan,
Aw'll tew for thine and thee,
An' seek for comfort when cast daan,
I'th' sunleet o' thi e'e."

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