I geet up a-milkin’ this mornin’,—
I geet up afore it wur leet;
I ne’er slept a minute for thinkin’
What Robin said yesterneet;
I’ve brokken two basins i’th dairy;
I’ve scoaded my gronny wi’ tay;
It’s no use a tryin’ a-spinnin’—
My wheel’s eawt o’ trim to-day.
_Chorus._
It’s oh, yon Robin, yon Robin;
His e’en ne’er twinkle’t so breet,
As they did when he meazur’t my finger
For th’ little gowd ring last neet.
Eawr Dorothy’s singin’ i’th shippon;
Eawr Jonathan’s leawngin’ i’th fowd;
Eawr Tummy’s at th’ fair, where he lippens
O’ swappin’ his cowt for gowd;
My gronny’s asleep wi’ her knittin’,
An’ th’ kittlin’s playin’ wi’ th’ yarn;
Eawr Betty’s gone eawt wi’ a gallon
To th’ chaps at their wark i’th barn.
_Chorus_—But oh, yon Robin, yon Robin.
Th’ lasses an’ lads are i’th meadow;
They’re gettin’ their baggin’ i’th hay;
I yer ’em as leetsome as layrocks,
I’th sky ov a shiny day;
But, little I care for their marlocks;
I dunnot want them for to see,
Though I’m fitter for cryin’ than laughin’,
There’s nob’dy as fain as me.
_Chorus_—For oh, yon Robin, yon Robin.
When I crept into th’ nook wi’ my sewin’,
My mother looked reawnd so sly;
Hoo know’d I could see across th’ coppice,
Where Robin comes ridin’ by;
Then hoo coom to me, smilin’ an’ tootin’,
An’ whisperin’, “Heaw doesto feel?
Dost think I should send for a doctor?”
But, th’ doctor hoo knows reet weel.
_Chorus_—It’s nought i’th world but Robin.
My feyther sits dozin’ i’th corner,
He’s dreamin’ o’th harvest day;
When Robin comes in for his daughter,
Eh, what’ll my feyther say?
Th’ rosebuds are peepin’ i’th garden;
An’ th’ blossom’s o’th apple tree;
Oh, heaw will life’s winter time find us,—
Yon Robin o’ mine, an’ me?
_Chorus_—For oh, yon Robin, yon Robin.
Then, hey for kisses an’ blushes,
An’ hurryin’ to an’ fro;
An’ hey for sly, sweet whispers,
That nob’dy but me mun know!
Then, hey for rings, an’ ribbins,
An’ bonnets, an’ posies fine!
An’ eh,—it’s o’ in a flutter,—
This little fond heart o’ mine!
_Chorus._
For oh, yon Robin, yon Robin;
His e’en ne’er twinkle’t so breet,
As they did when he meazur’t my finger
For th’ little gowd ring last neet.
[Illustration]