John Hartley

John Hartley Poems

  • 101.  
    "I would not live alway,"
    Why should I wish to stay, Now, when grown old and grey,
  • 102.  
    Th' sun wor settin, - red an gold,
    Wi splendor paintin th' west, An purplin tints throo th' valley roll'd,
  • 103.  
    Have yo seen mi bonny Mary,
    Shoo lives at Skircoit Green; An old fowk say a fairer lass
  • 104.  
    Another! - well, my bonny lad,
    Aw wodn't send thee back; Altho' we thowt we hadn't raam,
  • 105.  
    One limpin Jimmy wed a lass;
    An this wor th' way it coom to pass - He'd saved a little bit o' brass,
  • 106.  
    Down in a cellar cottage
    In a dark and lonely street, Was sat a widow and her boy,
  • 107.  
    The wind it blew cold, and the ice was thick,
    Deeper and deeper the snowdrifts grew; A young mother lay in her cottage, sick, -
  • 108.  
    "Awst nivver be jaylus, net aw!"
    Sed Nancy to th' love ov her heart, "Aw couldn't, lad, if awd to try,
  • 109.  
    We read ov a man once possessed ov a devil,
    An pity his sorrowful case; But at this day we fancy we're free from sich evil,
  • 110.  
    This world's made up ov leet an shade,
    But some things strange aw mark; One class live all on th' sunny side,
  • 111.  
    Let others boast ther bit o' brass,
    That's moor nor aw can do; Aw'm nobbut one o'th' workin class,
  • 112.  
    Bonny lads, and bonny lasses!
    Work away! work away! Think how swift each moment passes,
  • 113.  
    Aw like fowrk to succeed i' life if they've an honest aim,
    An even if they chonce to trip awm varry loath to blame; Its sich a simple thing sometimes maks failure or success,
  • 114.  
    "Mooar fowk get wed nor what do weel,"
    A've heeard mi mother say; But mooast young lads an lasses too,
  • 115.  
    Sleep bonny babby, thi grondad is near,
    Noa harm can touch thee, sleep withaat fear; Innocent craytur, soa helpless an waik,
  • 116.  
    (Written on seeing a wealthy Townsman rudely push a poor little girl off the pavement.)

  • 117.  
    Young Alick gate wed, as all gradely chaps do,
    An tuk Sally for better or war; A daycenter felly ne'er foller'd a ploo, -
  • 118.  
    It nobbut luks like tother day,
    Sin Jane an me first met; Yet fifty years have rolled away,
  • 119.  
    Hold up yer heeads, tho' at poor workin men
    Simple rich ens may laff an may scorn; Maybe they ne'er haddled ther riches thersen,
  • 120.  
    They tell me aw'm a vulgar chap,
    An ow't to goa to th' schooil To leearn to talk like other fowk,
  • 121.  
    Little simple violet,
    Glittering with dewy wet, Hidden by protecting grass
  • 122.  
    What wor it made me love thee, lass?
    Aw connot tell; Aw know it worn't for thi brass; -
  • 123.  
    Aw've travelled East, West, North, an South,
    An led a rooamin' life; Aw've met wi things ov stirlin' worth,
  • 124.  
    What suits one body doesn't suit another. Aw niver knew two fowk 'at allus thowt alike; an' if yo iver heard a poor chap talkin' abaat somebdy 'ats weel off, he's sure to say 'at if he'd his brass he'd do different throo what they do.
    Aw once heeard a chap say 'at if he'd as mich brass as Baron Rothschild he'd niver do owt but ait beef-steaks an' ride i' cabs. Well, lad, aw thowt, it's better tha hasn't it. We're all varry apt to find fault wi' things at we know varry little abaat, an' happen if we knew mooar we shud say less. Aw once heeard two lasses talkin', an' one on 'em war tellin' tother 'at sin shoo saw her befoor, shoo'd getten wed, an' had a child, an' buried it. "Why, whativer shall aw live to hear? Aw didn't know 'at tha'd begun coortin'. Whoiver has ta getten wed to?" "Oh, awve getten wed to a forriner, at comes throo Staffordshur."
  • 125.  
    Jenny, Jenny, dry thi ee,
    An' dunnot luk soa sad; It grieves me varry mich to see
  • 126.  
    Lads an lasses lend yor ears
    Unto an old man's rhyme, Dooant hurry by an say wi' sneers,
  • 127.  
    If yo've a fancy for a spree,
    Goa up to Lundun, same as me, Yo'll find ther's lots o' things to see,
  • 128.  
    Her ladyship's getten a babby, -
    An they're makkin a famous to do, - They say, - Providence treated her shabby -
  • 129.  
    Th' mooin shone breet wi' silver leet,
    An th' wind wor softly sighin; Th' burds did sleep, an th' snails did creep,
  • 130.  
    "Sup up thi gill, owd Peter Prime,
    Tha'st have a pint wi' me; It's worth a bob at onny time
  • 131.  
    "Tha wodn't goa an leave me, Jim,
    All lonely by mysel? My een at th' varry thowts grow dim -
  • 132.  
    Ye little flowrets, wild an free,
    Yo're welcome, aye as onny! Ther's but few seets 'at meet mi ee
  • 133.  
    When dull November's misty shroud,
    All Nature's charms depress, Flinging a damp, dark, deadening cloud,
Total 133 poems written by John Hartley

Poem of the day

The Wounded Heart
 by Robert Herrick

Come bring your sampler, and with art
Draw in't a wounded heart
And dropping here and there:
Not that I think that any dart
Can make your's bleed a tear,
Or pierce it anywhere;
Yet do it to this end: that I
May by

Read complete poem

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