Yorkshire Dialect Poems (1673-1915) and traditional poems

Nance and Tom

     Traditional

     From Mr. R. Blakeborough's "Old Songs of the Dales,"
     appended to his T' Hunt o' Yatton Brigg, p. 44, 2nd edition.

     I' t' merry taame o' harvestin'
        Lang sen,(1) aye well a day!
     Oar Nancy, t' bonniest lass i' t' field
        Had varra laal to say.
     An' Tom whea follow'd, follow'd her,
        An' neigh as dumb were he,
     An' thof he wark'd some wiv his hands
        He harder wark'd his ee.

     For Nan were buxom, Nan were fair,
        Her lilt were leet an' free;
     An' Tom could hardlins hod(2) his wits,
        He couldn't hod his ee
     Frae Nancy's face; an' her breet smaale
        Made Tom's heart lowp(3) an' thump;
     Whal Nancy awn'd t' fost kiss he gav,
        Her stays mun git a bump

     Bud o' ya neet, Tom set her yam,
        " Noo, Nance,"tell'd he," I've gitten
     A cauvin' coo, an' twea fat pigs;
        Wi' thy fair charms I'm smitten.
     Thoo knaws I have a theak,(4) my lass,
        An' gear, baith gert an' small,
     I've fotty pund ligg'd by at yam,
        Tak me, lass, tak it all."

     Nance hing'd her heead an' dropp'd her een,
        An' then she sighed, "Ah, dear!
     Noo hod thy whisht,(5) thoo's tell'd t' same tale
        To monny a maid, I fear."
     Bud Tom just bowdly sleev'd(6) her waist
        An chuck'd her unner t' chin.
     "O' Sunday neet," said he, " I'll wait
        To hug(7) thy milk-skeel(8) in.

     (A verse is missing)

     She bun' aboot her matchless cauf
        Four cletchin' streas,(9) did Nan,
     Twea wheaten an' twea oaten streas,
        Bud niver tell'd her man.
     She platted 'em when t' harvest mean
        Her colour'd cheek made pale,
     For nea lass plats her band for bairns
        And then blirts(10) out her tale.

     An' t' mean for sham' ahint a clood
        Her smaalin' feace did hide;
     Sea nea hedge-skulker gat a peep
        At Nan's leg when 't were tied.
     An' nean i' t' village would have knawn,
        At roond her leg, like thack,(11)
     She'd bun' a band to gie her bairns,
        Bud she tummel'd offen(12) t' stack,

     An' deaz'd she ligg'd, her shapely limb
        Laid oot for all to see;
     An' roond her leg a platted band
        Were bun' belaw her knee.
     Then up she sprang, an' laughin' said,
        "Noo, Tom warn't here to see;
     An' nean can say I's scrawmy(13) cauf'd,
        An' t' band still guards my knee."

     1. Long ago.  2 .Hold.  3, Leap.  4. Thatched roof.
     5. Hold thy tongue.  6. Encircled.  7. Carry.
     8. Milk-pail.  9. Thatching straws.  10. Blurts.
     11. Thatch.  12. Off.   13. Unshapely.