YESTERNEET.
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.