Tother Day.

A poem by John Hartley

As awm sittin enjoyin mi pipe,
An tooastin mi shins beside th' hob,
Aw find ther's a harvest quite ripe,
O' thowts stoored away i' mi nob.
An aw see things as plainly to-neet,
'At long years ago vanished away, -
As if they'd but just left mi seet,
Tother day.

Aw remember mi pranks when at schooil,
When mischievous tricks kept me soa thrang;
An mi maister declared me a fooil, -
An maybe, he wor net soa far wrang.
Ha mi lessons awd skip throo, or miss,
To give me mooar chonces for play;
An aw fancy aw went throo all this,
Tother day.

Aw remember mi coortin days too, -
What a felly aw fancied misen;
An aw swore at mi sweetheart wor true, -
For mi faith knew noa falterin then.
Aw remember ha jealous an mad,
Aw felt, when shoo turned me away,
An left a poor heartbrokken lad,
Tother day.

Aw remember when hung o' mi arm,
To th' church went mi blushin' young bride;
Ha aw glooated o'er ivvery charm,
An swell'd like a frog i' mi pride.
An th' world seem'd a fooitball to me,
To kick when inclined for a play;
An life wor a jolly gooid spree, -
Tother day.

Aw remember mi day dreeams o' fame,
An aw reckoned what wealth aw should win
But alas! aw confess to mi shame, -
Aw leeav offwhear aw thowt to begin,
Mi chief joy is to dreeam o' what's pass'd,
For mi future, one hope sheds its ray,
An awm driftin along varry fast,
To that day.