Classic Poem

JOHN AND THOMAS

JOHN

Well, what d'ye think o' thiese new laes they got
A miade about the parishes an' poor?

THOMAS

Why I da hardly know, I'm sure,
Whether tha'l do the naytion good or not.
But I da hope, drough GOD, the workhouse laes
Wull miake but little odds to I.
I hope to kip myzelf till I da die,
An' miake my own han's always veed my jaes.
I aleways scarn'd as I da hope to scarn
To ax var money that I diden yarn.

JOHN

True, Thomas, true: that's right; that's very right.
But still thiese laes da seem a little tight.
They woon't allow a vard'n out o' door,
An' tis but scanty prog tha'l gi'e within
The house; 't'll kip em plaguy thin,
T'oon't be so well as 'twer afore;
An' ther's to be oone poorhouse in the town,
Zix miles awoy, var al the pliazes roun',
Zoo if a man should come to want relief,
An' goo an' ax the auverzeer var't,
Tha'l tiake an' put en up into a cart,
An' car en out o' parish like a thief,
An' shove en in to bed an' tiable
Amang a house vull o' fresh fiazes,
Wi' scores o' volk vrom fifty pliazes
Like hosses in a common stiable.

THOMAS

That's very right; a honest man would vind
Al that a little gallen to his mind.
But then, ya know, hardworken men
Wull kip therzelves awoy, nine out o' ten.
An' ther wer zome'hat wrong in the wold plan.
Var if a chap wer liazy, an' a sot,
The parish kept his house, an' zoo 'e got
As good a liven as a steady man.
An' noggerheaded buoys that wer too young
To yarn ther zalt and tiaties, got a miate:
An' then wi' two ar dree poor children flung
Therzelves upon the parish riate.

JOHN

Aye, they be guain, ya know, to kip asunder
The menvolk in the poorhouse, vrom their wives.
How wull the women like thick plan I wonder?
How wull the menvolk like to liead such lives?
They mid as well, I think, each wi' his bride
Goo back to Church an' have ther knot untied.
Thiese lae, upon my word, is rather hard.
But I suppuose tha'l let em, var a trieat,
Goo oonce or twice a week into the yard
An' look at oone another drough a giate.

THOMAS

Ees, that's an oddish job; but mid be good,
Var they da want to bring volk, if they can,
To have muore forezight; an' to miake a man
Trust only to his zelf var food.
They woon't kip liazy volk noo muore, nar gi'e
The drone the honey o' the worken bee.
I have a liabour'd pirty hard,
An' reared zix children in my time,
An' tried to teach 'em var to fear the LARD
An' yarn ther bread, an' shun a crime.
I have a vound good friends, thank GOD, and many,
But never ax'd the parish var a penny;
Zoo I can now look buoldly in the fiace
O' th' girtest man that is in all the pliace,
An' veel that I be free, an' tell my name
To al the wordle without fear or shiame.
But if I wer a liazy man, an' willen
To zell my freedom for a parish shillen,
I must a skulked about a looken down
Wi' shiame an' mieanness, like a slinken houn'.
My trust a bin in GOD, an' not in man,
Var HE've a promised us to gi'e
Whate'er is good for us; an' HE can zee;
Var all the wordle da belong to HE.

JOHN

Aye, that's al right, 'tis no use var to trust
In wicked an' weak men, that be but dust.
But then if volk da want to miake the poor
Good men they ought to fiavour goodness muore.
Volk do esteem a rogue in a high pliace
Muore than a poorer man that's rich in griace.
An' honesty, when 'tis avoun' disguised
Under a plain smockfrock, is now despised.
A fop o' hossback is ashiamed to meet
A poorer neighbour down upon his veet;
An' thick siame fop would be uncommon proud
To ta'ke wi' a fine rascal in a crowd.
Thiese laes mid do some good; but volk mast show
Esteem var goodness if they'd zee it grow.
A farmer woulden git much vrom his zeeds
If they wer left to struggle wi' the weeds.

THOMAS

That's very true. The wordle don't ax what
A body is, but only what 'e got.