Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 06:53 AM

LAZY JACK!

TEUN- "The Sewing Machine."

JACK wes a real gud workman,
His shopmates a' knew that;
But whenivor he got drink,
He'd nivvor strike a bat.
His mates wes all sober men,
An' diddent like te see
A clivor hand like Lazy Jack
Se often on the spree.

Korus

He wad hardly work a week,
Before he got the sack;
'Twes a pity te see
Such a man on the spree
Wiv a nyem like Lazy Jack!

His wife wes full 0' trubble,
An' mony weary days,
She'd humour him or scowld him
Te myek him mend his ways.
An' Jack wad say he wad did,
But when she turned her back,
He'd say, "Ne wark for me the day!"
Weel nyem'd wes Lazy Jack.

He'd often tyek a bottle,
When he wes on the spree,
Te drink at hyem, throo the neet,
A real dry chep was he.
He'd put it in the cupboard,
An' reckoned such a treat,
The time his wifewes fast asleep,
Te fuddle a' the neet.

One neet, mair drunk than ivor,
He got up for a drink,
An' seized another bottle
Afore he'd time te think.
He swally'd a gud moothful,
An' then wi' fear wes dumb:
He fund 'twas "Furnitor Polish"
An' not Jamaica Rum.

"What's this?" he cried; "aw's deun for.
Whativor is this stuff?
It's neither rum nor whiskey,
Aw's setisfied eneuff.
Gud-bye, maw ill-used wifey!
Aw'm deed I-aw's on me back!
An unintended suicide's
Yor husband, Lazy Jack!"

He thowt that he wes poisin'd,
Be gud luck he wes not;
But it gov him such a fright,
It changed him frev a sot
Tiv a useful sober man. Says he,
"If folks wad think,
An' dreed poisin noo as aw did;
They'd nivvor ne mair drink!"

Korus

A simple cure's often best,
So here aw'll end me crack;
But away an' at hyem,
Thor's a change tiv his nyern,
It's canny Industrious Jack.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 07:13 AM

THE DIFFERENCE

TEUN- "The Harp that once."

JUST see the drunkard, mean an' starved,
Gan trailin throo the street,
Appealin wiv his bleary eyes
For ye te stand him treat.
A lazy, dorty, creepin thing,
A man but i' the nyem
A sot that cares for nowt but drink,
A stranger tiv a' shem.

Despised for spungin, there he'll stand,
An' shiver heed te fut;
Sumtimes adorned wi' blackened eye,
Or else sum ugly cut,
That myeks him mair repulsive like
Yor forced te turn away,
An' wunder hoo he hes the cheek
Te turn oot throo the day.

Then see the brisk teetotal man
Gan sharply throo the street,
Wi' heed erect ;-he gains respect
Frae ivry one he'll meet.
His plissure is a bissey life,
He knaws it suits him best;
An' when relieved frae daily toil,
Thor's cumfort in his rest.

He'd like te better a' mankind
That's gyen, or led, astray;
He'd kindly tyek the drunkard's hand
Te lead him the reet way;
An' show te him the greet mistake,
In drink thor is ne gain;
That life can be a
Paradise, If he will but abstain.


-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 07:21 AM

YE NIVVOR THINK THAT MIGHT BE YE!

TEUN- "The Time that me Fethur wes bad."

WHEN ye read i' the papers each morn,
Ov sum most unfortunate case,
Where poor fellows meet, throo the drink,
Thor deeth i' sum cot-the-way place;
It's unheeded, passed ower, forgot,
It's sumthingse common te see;
An' ye nivvor imagine such-like
Might just as seun happen te ye.

No, ye nivvor think that might been ye,
Yor reckoned a real stiddy man,
But ye might get a drop ower much
Te drink nyen at a's the best plan!
Wi' yor senses aboot ye se clear,
Yor footsteps is sure, safe, an' soond:
If the river cud speak, it wad say,
"Thor's seldum Teetotalers drooned !"

Then just think 0' me sang when ye read
The cases yor sartin te see,
An' ye'll find the best pairt's a' throo drink,
Sum accidents efter a spree.
When ye think 0' such untimely deeths,
It's far better te let drink a be,
For it's ne gud te sacrifice life,
That shud always be precious te ye.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 08:52 AM

WHAT A HELPLESS CHEP AM AW!

TEUN- "The Happy Land of Erin."

WHAT a helpless chep am aw,
It's a pity ye shud knaw,
But aw cannet baud me tung, so aw mun speak, man;
For aw once wes bowld an' strang,
An' cud roar oot ony sang,
Noo aw cannet sing for sixpence, aw's se weak, man.

Korus

But join us i' the korus, an' lend a helpin hand,
Tho aw needint sing i' praise 0' rum or whiskey;
For they tyek away all power, an' if aw cud only stand,
An' wes sober, aw wad sing the" Bay 0' Biskey."

Aw's as poor as ony moose,
An' aw's not a bit 0' use,
Or an ornament te grace gud society;
An' this neet aw'll lay me bones
On a bed 0' pavin stones,
For aw hevvint sense te stick te sobriety.

But it's just what aw desarve,
Tho aw had ne call te starve,
If aw'd been a sober chep, aw'd been real clivor;
But me heed keeps in a muddle,
Throo us gettin on the fuddle,
It's a wasted life that spoils yor brains for ivor.

Hoo aw gloried in a spree,
Myekin beer an' munny flee,
Nivvor thinkin that me brass wes gettin shorter.
Aw had such a canny lass,
But aw lost her throo me glass,
Aw wes drinkin, so aw haddint time te court her.

But aw'm sure 'twes best for her,
When she showed us te the door,
'Twad been misery for life if she had married
Such a drunken chep as me,
So aw often wish te dee,
For aw nivvor will be happy till aw'm barried.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 01:16 PM

NE CLAESI

TEUN-"The Postman's Knock."

SAYS Mary, wi' tears runnin a' doon her cheeks,
"Aw cud cry me eyes oat throo war Jack;
He spends as much munny on whiskeyan' beer
As wad put a new suit on his back;
Each Monday he promises faithful te buy
Sum claes for the bairnies an' me;
He myeks us believe that he's gannin te work,
But he's half 0' the week on the spree.

Korus

"It's a pity te see wor Jack on the spree,
He'll nivvor buy claes for the bairns or for me.

" Buy sum claes for the bairns if ye winnet forme!'
At the end 0' the week aw'll oft say;
But he puts us off wiv a paltry excuse,
Such as-' Wait till aw hev a full pay!'
He'll spend all his brass, axin foaks what they'll hev'
He's a gud-hearted fellow,'they say;
But they nivvor imagine he nivvor asks me
What aw'll hev, when at hyem, i' that way.

"It may set him off i' the cumpney he gets,
But if he'd these three-happences save,
Hoo seun he might better byeth us an' he'sel,
Ay, an' not keep his wife like a slave;
Unshaven he'd rethur gan for a full week,
Always dirty an' seedy is he;
An' the bairns an' me-sel's not a bit better off,
Throo the munny he spends iv a spree.

"Aw've mended thor claes till a stitch 'ill not haud,
If aw wesh them, te pieces they cum;
For all he sees this, an' besides they've ne shoes,
When aw speak, aw might as weel be dumb;
If he answers at a', he'll say, 'Wait, an' aw'll buy
Them a' sumthing on Seturday next;'
But Seturday cums an' it gans the syem way,
An' aw'vealways a heart sairly vext.

"There's Tommy, poor thing, tho he's happy i' rags,
He's not fit.te be seen i' the street,
An' Mally, she hesint a hat tiv her heed,
An' young Johnny ne shoes tiv his feet;
Wi' me awd claes aw often cud help them a bit,
But aw noo heh te weer them me-sel;
An' whativor 'ill cum ov us a' when thor deun,
Whey, aw cannet imagine or tell.

Wor neybors, next door, always dress smart an' neat,
An' thor always at hyem at a meal;
Thor the pictor 0' cumfort an' hearty gud hilth,
An' thor real canny foaks tee as weel;
They've wanted us often te gan up sum neet,
Te join i' the Temperance cawse,
An' then we might just be as weel off as them,
But wor Jack 'ill not gan, tho he knaws.

"Aw wish.he wad join them, an' stick te the pledge,
What a different life it wad be;
Thor's nowt but starvation an' want where thor's drink,
For the wages that cum as seun flee;
Thor's one-half condem'd for the tick that he's had,
Wi' the uther he'll gan on the spree ;
While the fam'ly may starve, wi' ne claes te thor backs,
Then God help them poor bairnies an' me."

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 01:27 PM

HARRY'S BROKEN LEG

TEUN- "Kiss me quick and go."

YOUNG HARRY staggered throo the street,
An' got a heavy fall ;
His leg wes broke, an' there he lay
Wi' heed agyen the wall.
His groans attracted plenty folks,
But helpless there he lay,
Till frinds com up te lend a hand,
An' carry him away.

Kurus

An'.ten weeks on his bed he lay,
As helpless as cud be;
An' mony a time he rued the day
He went upon the spree.

His muther tried te cheer him up,
An' frinds com droppin in:
For Harry had a lot 0' mates
Te see his broken shin:
It frightened sum, an' myed them stop
Upon thor thowtless way;
But one 0' them, young Charley Jones,
Called in byeth neet an' day.

An' Charley often cheered him up,
Wi' readin tiv him there:
He'd tyek a beuk an' sit beside
Poor Harry iv his chair:
What Charley red wes gud an' true,
It let young Harry see
That drink, intoxicatin drink,
Nowt else but harm cud de.

An' Charley myed young Harry turn
Te think the syem as him;
An' often he wad wipe his eyes,
As they wi' tears grew dim.
He teuk the pledge-he's fund it brings
Such happiness te him;
He'll nivvor brickti-he's got mair sense,
Since he'd that broken limb.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 03:55 PM

A DRUNKEN MAN!

'TEUN- "The Cork-Leg."

IF ivor ye want te hear black's white,
If ivor ye want a reglor fight,
Hoo seun the flame ye can easily fan,
If ye contradict a drunken man.

Let him say owt, an' ye divvent agree,
If ye tell him he's rang, he'll let ye see
That ye cannet be reet withoot his plan;
An' thor's nyen se wise as a drunken man.

He'll say his wife's the best i' the toon,
An' the varry next minnit knock her doon,
An' hammer her heed wi' poker an' pan:
A deevil on orth is a drunken man.

He'll grummil at owt, an' hey his way,
An' contradict ivry word ye say;
The subject 'ill finish where ye began,
Withoot thor's a fight wi' the drunken man.

He'll tell ye what he's deun iv his days,
An' stick atnowt if it's just self-praise;
The Lord 0' Creation here ye'll scan:
Chock-full 0' conceit is the drunken man.

He'll brag ova' that belangs te him,
His Uncle Bob and his Cousin Jim;
His tarrier dogs, that's black an' tan,
Is a subject grand for the drunken man.

He'll tell ye that he's canny an' croose,
Wiv a cumley wife an' a forst-rate hoose,
An' thor's nyen such happiness can span;
But ye munnit believe a drunken man!

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 03:57 PM

NANCY IN THE BARROW

TEUN-"Judy Macarty."

SAYS Jim te me-"One day aw saw
A seet that myed us glower:
A crood 0' folks wes geth'rin fast,
Aw thowt aw'd just cross ower
The street, te gaze amang the rest
At what had teuk thor fancy;
An' whe wes Iyin On the flags?
War neybor, Tipsy Nancy!

"She cuddent speak-she'd lost her tung,
Tho often she's got plenty;
She cuddent walk-she cuddent stand
A wheelbarrow stud empty.
What de ye think two on us did
Me an' a handy marrow?
We teuk her up, byeth neck an' crop,
An' put her in the barrow!

She stared aboot se helpless like,
For fear that she wes deein;
Wi' minds myed up te tyek her hyem,
We throo the streets went fieein,
Until we landed at the door,
Then lifted her like winkin,
An' left her safe eneuff te snore
An' get clear ov her drinkin.

They teli us when she wakened up,
Myest ivry byen wes akin;
She thowt the world wes upside doon,
She'd gettin such a shakin.
She blaired and cried like any bairn,
Upon her bed se narrow,
When tell'd sum frinds had browt her hyem
Se public i' the barrow. "

"Oh, wes aw born te be browt up,
Then turn a drunken wummin?'
She cried, wi' monny bitter tears;
'An' here's me gud-man cummin!
Aw'm sober now.-What will he think
(When aw'm for life his marrow),
If he hears tell, throo a' the streets,
They've wheel'd us iv a barrow? "

Such seets may be grand fun te sum,
But, oh, it is disgustin;
At last aw really de think shyem
Me heart, it's nearly brustin!
Ne mair aw'll touch the filthy stuff,
Me feelins se te harrow;
An' if it proves te me a cure,
Aw'll bliss that awful barrow!"

She teuk the pledge, an' kept it tee,
An' noo she's what aw fancy:
A canny neybor, clean an' kind;
Weel liked be a' is Nancy.
But shyem still myeks her hang her heed,
She's gawn te shift te Jarrow,
In hopes nebody there 'ill knaw
Her journey in the barrow.
The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 05:08 PM

THE DOUBLE EVENT!

TEUN- "A Nice Young Man."

DICK wes a chep that stuck at nowt,
If it wad only pay;
He got an agent's job for beer,
An' myed brass i' that way.
He liked te swagger throo the toon,
An' call at ivry bar;
An' he seun got celebrated
As a trav'ler near an far.
He quickly myed a roarin trade,
An' drove his gig quite smart;
He wad seun be independent
Wi' myekin such a start :
At least he thowt se; so he'd try
Te myek his profits mair :
He'd hev a hand in sumthing else,
What at he diddent care.
But startin bissniss for he'sel
Stuck firmly in his mind;
He'd try a one that waddent fail
The undertakin kind.
An' so he did: he teuk a shop
Built in a weel-knawn street,
Exposin i' the windows there
New coffins te yor seet.
Ay, coffins! bonny handled, tee,
An' breest-plates, met yor view;
Ye cud stand an' calculate yor fit
An' this is really true.
He'd sell his beer te customers,
An' when thor life wes spent,
He'd coffins ready, gud an' cheap,
Wi' joiners kindly sent.
Thor's sum men hes a narve for owt,
If munny they can make;
Thor not porticklor what it is,
If it 'ill only take.
Te think a man shud deal i' beer,
An' deal i' coffins, tee,
Might shock the strangest vulgor mind;
But it's a fact, ye see!
Dick's frinds an'.foes wes a' surprised,
They thowt he'd seun repent;
An' for a lark they chris'end him
"The Double Greet Event! "
But Dick gets on-the Deevil's frind,
His smile it's always grim;
He knaws when he cums tiv his bier,
A coffin waits for him.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 05:19 PM

BUY US A GILL 0' BEER!

TEUN-" When the Kye cums hame."

A CHEP that cadjes for a gill
'Ill nivvor gived a thowt,
An' nivvor reckon that the beer
He begs hes te be bowt.
If he knew ony shyem at a',
These words wad strike his ear,
If askin for a treat, he'd say"
Buy us a gill 0' beer? "

Korus

"Buy us a gill 0' beer's"
Not attractive te the ear;
It'll tyeka chepwi' narvete say"
Buy us a gill 0' beer!"

He asks ye if ye'll stand a glass
In a sneakin kind 0' way,
Such as-" Aw'm very dry this morn,
Aw want te wet me clay,"
He thinks it's not se beggin-like,
An' not at a' severe;
Altho its meanin's just the syem
"Buy us a gill 0' beer!"

An' this is hoo a chep 'ill spunge,
For folks te feed his greed;
Thor's lots wad giv him nowt at a'
If he said, "Buy us breed! "
An' lots wad hesitate a bit,
For all his meanin's clear,
If he wad only ask them thus
"Cum, hinny, buy us beer! "

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 05:30 PM

A VARRY HARD BED!

TEUN- "The Laird 0' Cockpen."

HE wes lyin asleep i' the broad day-leer,
Stritch'd oat his full length i' the wide open street;
The curb-stone his pillow, quite helpless wes Ned,
Unconscious he lay on a varry hard bed.

Sumtimes he wad grummil at foaks passin by,
Then he'd give a greet snore, an' heave a greet sigh;
Not dreamin that cairts on his toes might hev tred,
He lay there se drunk on his varry hard bed.

A crood gether'd roond, an' the pollis perplext,
Cud dent waken him up, so they got varry vext;
For a stritcher one off te the station-hoose sped,
Then they carried him off tiv anuther hard bed.

He slept a' 'the neet, but next mornin, se sair,
He waken'd, an' started te find he'sel there;
He luckt roond aboot him, says he,
"Aw's misled, For if this is maw hoose it's a different bed! "

"Whativer on orth's browt us here?" ·then he said,
"Aw diddent cum here be me-sel, aw's aflaid ;
Aw'd slept just as weel in abroken-doon shed,
Me byens may weel ake on this hard-hearted bed! "

But the pollis com In, an' it open'd his eyes,
When the magistrates spoke he luckt up wi' surprise;
Says they, "Ye've had lodgins since hereye war led:"
Says he, "But ye gov us an awful hard bed

I' It cost him ten shillins,-he myed his way hyem,
Wi' heed-ake, an' heart-ake, an' byens just the syem ;
Says he, "Ne mair fuddlin, such nonsense is fled,
Aw've cum te maw senses upon that hard bed!"

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 05:55 PM

TE LEEVE FOR A HUNDRID EERS!

TEUN- "Cum whoam te yor Childer and Me."

STRANGE ideas creep inte wor heeds,
Difficult ye'd think te conceive:
Yet hoo often they'll cum te amuse,
Mair often then we cud believe;
It's just two or three days since young Smith,
A frind 0' mine, laffin appears
Sayin, "What a queer world this wad be
If we allleev'd a whole hundrid eers
If we had, an' we knew that we had
Te leeve for a full hundrid eers !"

The foaks waddent care when they war ill,
They'd nivvor need docterin then,
For the young uns we'd nivvor need fear,
Bein sure they'd grow wimmen an' men;
An' we'd welcum the dear little things
Withoot ony sadness or tears,
For we'd knaw throo thor trubbles they'd pull,
An' they'd leeve for a whole hundrid eers
If they had, an' we knew that they had
Te leeve for a whole hundrid eerst

Then i' courtin we'd nivvor loss heart,
For we'd knaw thor wes plenty 0' time
Te find one, if a lot diddent suit,
An' till ninety we'd be i' wor prime;
But at fifty aw'd freely propose,
An' be seconded safe wi' greet cheers,
That nebody shud work efter that,
Let them rest for the next fiftyeers,
An' experience the real joys 0' life
Till the end 0' the whole hundrid eers.

Aw can hardly imagine what scenes
Thor wad be wi' the time drawin nigh,
Hoo sum wad kneel doon an' repent
While uthers heart-broken wad cry;
Thor wad still be sum wantin a spree,
Nivvor thinkin ov sorrow or tears;
But uthers as prompt as cud be,
Wad pay up all debts in arrears;
While uthers content an' prepared,
Wad finish the lang hundrid eers.

But, bliss ye! if this wes the case,
Thor's sum foaks that's nivvor content,
'Phey'd want te leeve fifty eers mair,
An' fifty eers mair te repent;
So aw think war all best as we are,
An' when hope frev each breest disappears
Let reflections byeth peaceful an' sweet
Myek us knaw we've not wasted wor eers;
That we've leev'd, just as if we had leev'd
For the whole 0' the .Iang hundrid eers.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 07:40 PM

SEEIN DOUBLE

TEUN- "Sally Lee."

ONE day aw got me portrait teun,
When aw wes on the spree;
Aw went an' showed it te me wife,
Says she, "It's just like ye !"
Aw lafft an' felt pleased that it wes,
Says aw, "That's varry true! "
But when aw luckt intiv its fyece,
I cud swore thor wes two.

Korus

Two-fowld eyesight's anything but spree;
Two heeds, fower airms, two foaks for one te see.
Thor's sum may think it's funny,
But aw'Il not bed, indeed;
For wben a cbep sees double, whey,
He's nearly oot his heed.

Says aw, "Thor's two heeds on me neck
Upon this pictor here! "
Says she, "Man, ye see double, for
Ye've been upon the beer! "
"See double! de ye think aw's drunk,"
Says aw," maw canny lass! "
Aw luckt agyen, but still aw saw
Two heeds upon the glass.

Aw luckt up te maw bonny wife,
Says aw, "Maw darlin Bell!"
When aw saw she had two fyeces
Byeth laflin like her-sel.
Says aw, "Hev aw got two wives here?"
Says she, "Don't be an ass! "
Aw turned maw heed, an' saw me fyece
Twice i' the luckin-glass.

Aw saw two fiddles hanging up,
Aw knew aw just had one;
Thinks aw, aw'd better heh them doon;
Aw'll try the uther's tone.
Aw got on what aw thowt two chairs,
Te reach them frae the wall,
Aw fund aw'd just one i' me hand,
An' not let either fall.

Aw saw two tyebles on the floor ;
Six chairs, tho we'd but three;
Two kettles singin on the hob,
An' fower cups 0' tea.
Aw saw me two wives suppin theirs,
Says aw, "Hoo de ye de?
Aw diddent knaw my wife wes twins
Yor welcum byeth te me !"

Aw sat there fairly mesmerised,
An' tried awake te keep;
Aw fund me senses cummin te
As aw wes gawn te sleep.
But when aw wakened up, aw went,
An', sober, signed the pledge;
Thinks aw, this seein double's close
Upon the madhoose edge.

The above may also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 07:51 PM

MURDER THROO DRINK: THE GALLOWS
RECITATION

THEY'VE teun him off te the Station noo,
Sumbody said that they always knew
'Twad end like this; for the fearful strife
Wad only end i' the loss ov a life,
An' that wad be i' the life ov the wife.

"Murder!" wes whispered in ivry breeth.
A poor aud wummin wes kicked te deeth
Ay, kicked te deeth wivher man's greet feet
In hob-nail beuts, that he wore i' the street.
An' sumbody said that it sarved her reet.

Sumbody always hes sumthing te say.
Aw heard they'd been drinkin mony a day
Ay, mony 11 day an' many a year,
Till the wummin had lost a' sense 0' fear,
An' nivvor thowt that her end wes near.

But ivry life mun cum tiv an end,
The seuner wi' drinkin, ye may depend;
The seuner wi' drink, for it's murder's mate,
For it fills the breest wi' passion an' hate,
That the hangman nivvor hes lang te Walt.

The prisoner sits iv his gloomy cell,
An' hears for his-sel the funeral bell.
But sumbody says that they owt te see
The murderer hung on the gallows tree;
It's a shem that it shud se private be.

Oh, but sumbody here shud stop an' think
Ov the evil deun throo the evil drink.
For it's murder here, an' it's murder there,
It's murder throo drink myest ivrywhere,
An' the gallows is varry seldom bare.

Keep clear 0' the drink for yor lives, aw say;
Keep't oot 0' yor awn an' yor bairns' way,
Tho sumbody says it'll de ye gud;
But it nivvor will, nor it nivvor cud;
It corrupts the mind, the body, an' blud.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 09:24 PM

ON THE BEER!

TEUN- "Terence's Farewell."

JACK BARKLEY'S thick-heeded an' lazy,
He lounges aboot like a feul ;
Unshaven an' dorty, he'll deave ye
As seun as he iver gets full.
He'll sing an' he'Il shoot like a madman,
His fav'rit's wee! knawn, "Cheer, Boys, Cheer!"
An' he'll blair wiv a fyece sentimental;
He's noisy, not lively, wi' beer.

Wild Bob gans aboot foaks insultin,
Ye'd think at the world he'd a spite;
He'll dunch agyen foaks that he passes,
An' try an' provoke them te fight.
He likes te fall oot wi' the pollis,
His eyes frae the black's seldum clear;
In fact, he's a black altegither,
Nivvor safe when he gans on the beer.

Lang Polly gans daft when she's drinkin,
Neglectin her gud-man an' bairns;
She'll sit dayan' neet when she tipples
Alang wiv her neybor, Doll Cairns.
DoIl laffs at owt-screams like a nidiot,
Poll cries wiv a crokidile's tear;
Thor a nice-luckin sample 0' wimmen
These two, when they get on the beer!

Ruff Bill thinks but nowt aboot smashin
Whativer may cum iv his way;
He threw a glass plate at his wife, an'
It struck thor poor bairn as it lay.
They've tyekin Bill off te the station;
He threatens that, when he gets clear,
He'll myek his poor wife sairly suffer;
He's a miscreant maddened wi' beer.

They may sing silly sangs iv its praises,
An' butter the Scotch an' the Mild;
But where is its qualities precious?
It myeks men unsettled an' wild.
Thor a' better, far better, withoot it,
Throo the world they can steadily steer,
With a heed byeth cool, firm, an' collected,
Withoot thor brains muddled wi' beer.
The above can also be used as a Recitation.


-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 17 - 11:20 PM

I'M ALWAYS DRY !


TEUN- "Trab, Trab,"

Aw cud welcum ivry mornin
Wiv a heart byeth leet an' gay,
An' the sun agyen returnin
Te myek bright anuther day;
But aw de nowt else but sigh,
For aw feel se awful dry!
Dry, dry, dry, dry,
Aw'm always dry:
Whativer can aw try?

Yis; the mornin' may be plissint,
An' the birds may sweetly sing;
But thor's not a charm, thor issent,
That can joy te maw heart bring.
When aw luck up te the sky,
Te feel better hoo aw try;

But dry, dry, dry,
Aw'malways dry:
Whativer can aw try?

Can aw not find resolution
Te dispel this dreadful thirst?
An' te save me constitution
Is thor nowt te be enforced?
Is thor nowt that aw can try?
Can sum gud frind not reply?

For dry, dry, dry,
Aw'm always dry
Whativer can aw try?

Thor's a voice heard throo the nation,
An' it whispers, "Stop, gud frind !
If ye keep frae dissipation,
What a greet relief ye'll find.
An' ye'll bliss us by-an'-by,
If ye'll only just comply.

Then try, try, try:
Ye'Il not be dry,
If Temperance ye'Il try!"

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 24 May 17 - 02:33 PM

TEETOTAL NOO!

TEUN- "The Cure."

Iv a' the" cures " that's in the world
Thor's one that's stud the test,
An' seun 'ill be established as
The safest an' the best:
That's abstinence frae alchohol!
It cheers the heart a' throo
Te hear anuther member's myed,
An' he's teetotal noo.

Korus

I Teetotal noo! teetotal noo!
It cheers the heart a' throo
Te hear anuther member's myed,
An' he's teetotal noo.

Aw'll tell ye a few cures it's myed:
Bill Thorn wes varry bad,
He thowt that he wes gannin fast
Says aw, "Maw canny lad,
Just pitch up drinkin what ye de,
Or else ne mair ye'll hew!"
He did, an' noo he's stoot an' strang,
For he's teetotal noo.

Tom Rolly's hilth wes leavin him,
He got that dreadful weak;
When weel, he wes a noisy chep,
Wi' such a lot d cheek:
But noo he's stiddy, weel-behaved,
He's bid the beer adieu!
Just ask him, he knaws which is best,
For he's teetotal noo.

Ned Whalley's temper wes the warst
Ov any i' the street;
He used te hit an' kick his wife
He nigh killed her one neet:
But noo thor just as happy, an'
Glad smiles leet up each broo;
The reason 0' this wondrous change
Is, he's teetotal noo.

Jack Bruce wes thowt a hopeless case,
Myest always bad an' pale;
He passed his time away frae hyem
When he wes oot 0' jail:
But noo he's got a canny job;
The gentlemen in blue
Miss Jack-he's nivvor i' thor hands,
For he's teetotal noo.

Aw nivvor saw a chep se thin
As Davey Bones once was;
Starvation, like a walkin ghost,
Wes pictor'd in his Jaws.
It teuk a while te get him roond,
At last heTiilthy grew;
An' lately he's mair like a man,
For he's teetotal noo.

But, bliss ye! aw might sing a' neet,
An' subjects nivvor cease,
Te prove hoo mony lives 0' war's
Been alter'd inte peace.
The happy change, the gladnin change,
Shud always get its due,
Convartin drunken men te say
That they're teetotal noo.
The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 24 May 17 - 03:13 PM

THE INTENDED SUICIDES.

TEUN-" The Pawnshop Bleezin."

TOM JACKSON an' his wife fell oot,
Byeth drunk an' got mischievous;
Says he, one neet, "Aw'll end me life,
An' that 'ill seun relieve us
Frae such a bitter plague as ye.
Ye've not been a gud wife te me,
This neet aw'll te the river flee,
An' i' the wetter cawd aw'll dee,
Aw'm once for all detarmined!"

Says she, "If ye intend te gan,
Aw'll de the syem as ye, man;
Aw cuddent leeve here be rne-ael,
Unhappy aw wad be, man.
Ye've always been me care an' pride,
Aw'm lost withoot ye be me side.
Aw've travelled wi' ye far an' wide;
So aw'll gan doon when it's high tide,
An' droon me-sel wi' ye, man!"

Says he, "Ye needint gan wi' me,
Ye'll stop us if yor there, lass;
If ye had been a sober wife,
Aw'd nivvor need te care, lass,
Aw'd let melife run oot its span,
But noo aw'll te destruction gan!"
Says she, "If ye had been a man
That myed a stiddy life yor plan,
"Twad nivvor com te this, man ; "

At neet he slawlybent his way,
Till close beside the river,
He teuk his coat an' waistkit off.
Says he, "It's noo or nivvor!"
When all at once he heard a shriek;
He luckt aroond-he cuddent speak;
When on the surface 0' the deep
He saw a form-he teuk a leap,
For Tom wes a gud swimmer.

He bravely swam te save the life
Ov sum unhappy creetor,
An' be the meunleet there he saw
His wife in ivry feator.
He pull'd her safely te the shore,
Then on his back her body bore,
Until he reached thor awn hoose door,
An' then he laid her on the floor,
Te bring her tiv her senses.

She moaned an' cried when she com roond,
But Tom had nivvor spoken;
Thor freak had gien them byeth a fright,
Her heart wes nearly broken.
But efter this they had sum tea,
Injoyed it better then a spree,
Myed up thor minds T.T. te be; .
An', prizin life, they byeth agree
Ne suicides te be, man.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 24 May 17 - 04:41 PM

l' THE WORKHOOSE

TEUN-"On the Ropery Banks."

Aw once wes byeth stiddy an' clivor,
"A real handy chep!" they wad say;
At owt aw cud myek me-sel useful,
Aw nivvor wes off wark a day.
Aw sarved me time oot as a fitter,
But nivvor wes tied te me trade;
At neets awwes just like a joiner,
Byeth tyebles an' chairs, tee, aw made.

Korus

But noo aw'm byeth helpless an' useless,
Not worthy 0' one word 0' praise;
Throo driukiu aw's browt te the workhoose,
An' here aw mun finish me days.

Aw wes nimble; aw once wes a runner,
As sharp as cud be on me feet;
An' mony a crack aw've astonished
Aw nivvor wes knawn te be beat.
At wrestlin aw wessent a bad un,
Wi' confidence, strang as a bull;
I' public-hoose rows aw wes champein,
Nyen had a chance when aw wes full.

Aw wes happy if aw wes but busy,
Nowt iver com rang i' me way;
Te keep me hands gawn wes a plissure,
Not always porticklor te pay.
Aw'd mend me awn shoes, coat, an' troosers,
Byeth cobbler an' tailor wes aw ;
Or build a pig-sty for me neybors,
An' kill the pigs, tee, ye mun knaw.

Insteed ov us workin for payment,
Aw always felt happy at neet
If they teuk us intiv a beer-boose,
A few glasses myed it a' reet.
Aw liked te hear all ov them praise us,
It filled us se full 0' conceit;
Aw reckoned me-sel, i' me awn mind,
The clivorest man i' the street.
Aw got that much used wi' me glasses,

Aw always kept langin for mair,
Till eers 0' such varry hard drinkin
Teuk effect when aw wassent aware.
A stroke laid us up for life helpless,
An' put a sad end te me spree;
Withoot drink aw'd been strong an' healthy,
It's been a dear fuddle te me.

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890

Subject: RE: Songs/Poems of Joe Wilson
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 24 May 17 - 10:52 PM

GEORDEY'S FOND 0' RUM!

TEUN·-"Mally Dunn."

"WOR Geordey wes a canny man,
A canny man te me;
Me life weslike a happy dream,"
In grief, says Nan McGee.
"Aw blist the day that we got wed,
Such happiness had cum;
But now aw cannet praised ne mair
For Geordey's fond 0' rum !

Korus

"Them happy days is passed away,
Aw doot they'll ne mar cum;
Aw hope they may; but hoo can they,
When Geordey's fond 0' rum?

"His gud lucks won me willin heart,
His smile wes honey's sel ;
But oh, his tung had mair effect
Then awheh wordste tell
But noo his bonny fyece is changed,
Its culler's noo becum
A dirty, half-weshed kind 0' reed,
Throo drinkin se much rum !

"Insteed 0' talkin kind te me,
Whenivor he cums in,
He staggers tiv his aud airrn-chair,
Then argyin he'l! begin.
He thinks the room chock full 0' foaks,
Aw stand quite mute an' dumb;
He calls for' Order!' talks away,
Then shoots for sum mair rum!

"Aw've seen him fightin wi' the chair
Becawse it waddent speak;
He'd say aw knew ne greet M.P.'s,
Me knollidge wes se weak.
Politicks aw knew nowt aboot,
As chairman aw wes numb;
He teuk us for sum chep he knew,
Throo gettin se much rum.

"He'll jump oat ov his bed at neets,
An' sweer he sees a ghost;
An' mony a time he'll lector
Te the [ower-pole bed-post.
Next mornin, when he wakens up,
Doon stairs he'll wretched cum,
Sayin, 'Nan, aw've been a feullast neet,
Throo gettin se much rum !'

"He'll haud his heed as if 'twad burst,
Aw myek him a sup tea,
An' try te cheer him wi' me words;
But still it winnet de.
For oh, aw luv me husband weel,
An' hope the day 'ill cum,
When we'll be happy as before
He ivor tyested rum! "

The above can also be used as a Recitation.

-Source: Joe Wilson, (author) Songs and Drolleries, 1890