Yon Lass 'At Aw'M Tekkin' To Th' Fair Poem by William Baron

For close on a year, aw'v bin courtin',
Wi' a lass, eh, so tender an' true;
An' for beauty, yo'd find nooan to match hur,
If yo hed to seech Rachda' o throo.
We've hed mony a ramble together,
Throo th' meadows i' th' fresh country air;
But last Sunda' neet when aw left hur,
Aw towd hur aw'd tek hur to th' fair,

Hoo look'd some an' suited, aw'll tell yo,
For hoo smiled as aw bid hur ' Good-neet!'
An' hoo lingered at th' dur when we parted,
An' watched till aw geet eawt o' seet.
When aw seed heaw aw'd filled hur wi' pleasure,
Wi' joy aw could welly ha' cried ;
For aw know 'at hoo's never contented,
Except when aw'm close at hur side.

Aw've longed for this week to get o'er wi',
For it seems to hev dragged on so slow ;
An' when one's impatient an' luv-sick,
It's nooan so nice waitin', yo know.
But th' time's drawin' near when aw'st see hur,
An' this heart o' mine then'll be leet;
For, someheaw, mi trubbles o vanish,
As soon as hoo comes i' mi seet.

Aw've bin lot's o' times to hur mother's,
An' aw've getten on famously wi' hur;
For aw'm met wi a warm, hearty welcome,
Whenever aw drop in to see hur.
Sooa aw'll buy hur some sort uv a present,
When aw ramble reawnd th' fair-greawnd today;
An' give it th' owd lass for a ' fairin,'
For aw'm gooin', to-morn to mi tay.

It's time 'at aw geet misel ready,
Or else aw'st be lettin' hur wait;
For i' less nor an heawr aw've to meet hur,
An' aw wouldno' like bein' too late.
Sooa aw'll wesh me, an' get mi best things un,
An' put some nice scent on mi hair;
For aw want to look weel, if aw con do,
When aw meet hur to tek hur to th' fair.

We'st hev plenty o' fun when we get theer,
For we'st gooa into every show;
An' then gooa i' th' swingin'-boats after,
An' deawn th' helter-skelter an' o.
Hoo's for hevin' eawr likenesses tekken,
An' put in a nice little frame ;
To hang up on th' wo' uv eawr dwellin',
For soon hoo'll be changin' hur name.

We've scraped tuthri peawnd up together,
Tho' we've booath on us done it unknown;
An' aw think it'll prove varra usefull,
To furnish a whoam uv eawr own.
We'st be axed eawt for th' third time next Sunda',
An’ soon o life's joys we shall share;
For aw'm gooin' to be wed in a fortnit,
To yon lass 'at aw'm tekkin' to th' fair.