The Bells of Kirkby OverblowDraw back my curtains, Mary,An’ oppen t’ windey wide;Ay, ay, I know I’m deein’,While to-morn I’ll hardlins bide.But yit afore all’s ovver,An’ I lig cowd as snow,I’ll hear once more them owd church bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.Mony a neet an’ mornin’I’ve heerd yon church bells peal;An’ how I’ve threaped an’ cursed ’emWhen I was strong an’ weel!Gert, skelpin’, chunterin’ taistrils,[1]All janglin’ in a row!Ay, mony a time I’ve cursed yon bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.When you hear yon church bells ringin’,You can’t enjoy your sin;T’ bells clutches at your heart-stringsI’ t’ ale-house ower your gin.At pitch-an’-toss you’re laikin’,Down theer i’ t’ wood below;An’ then you damn them rowpy[2]bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.An’ when I’ve set off poachin’At back-end o’ the year,Wi’ ferret, bag an’ snickle,[3]Church bells have catched my ear.“Thou’s takken t’ road to Hell, lad,Wheer t’ pit-fire’s bumin’ slow;”That’s what yon bells kept shoutin’ outAt Kirkby Overblow.But now I’m owd an’ bed-fast,I ommost like their sound,Ringin’ so clear i’ t’ star-leetAcross the frozzen ground.I niver mell on[4]parsons,There ain’t a prayer I know;But prayer an’ sarmon’s i’ yon bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.Six boards o’ gooid stout ellumIs what I’ll want to-morn;Then lay me low i’ t’ church-yardAneath t’ owd crooked thorn.I’ll have no funeral sarviceWhen I’m browt down below,But let ’em touzle t’ bells like madAt Kirkby Overblow.I don’t know wheer I’m boun’ for,It hardlins can be Heaven;I’ve sinned more sins nor most men’Twixt one an’ seven-seven.But this I’ll tak my oath on:Wheeriver I mun go,I’ll hark to t’ echoes o’ yon bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.[1]Unwieldy, grumbling rascals.[2]Hoarse.[3]Snare.[4]Meddle with.
Draw back my curtains, Mary,An’ oppen t’ windey wide;Ay, ay, I know I’m deein’,While to-morn I’ll hardlins bide.But yit afore all’s ovver,An’ I lig cowd as snow,I’ll hear once more them owd church bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.Mony a neet an’ mornin’I’ve heerd yon church bells peal;An’ how I’ve threaped an’ cursed ’emWhen I was strong an’ weel!Gert, skelpin’, chunterin’ taistrils,[1]All janglin’ in a row!Ay, mony a time I’ve cursed yon bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.When you hear yon church bells ringin’,You can’t enjoy your sin;T’ bells clutches at your heart-stringsI’ t’ ale-house ower your gin.At pitch-an’-toss you’re laikin’,Down theer i’ t’ wood below;An’ then you damn them rowpy[2]bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.An’ when I’ve set off poachin’At back-end o’ the year,Wi’ ferret, bag an’ snickle,[3]Church bells have catched my ear.“Thou’s takken t’ road to Hell, lad,Wheer t’ pit-fire’s bumin’ slow;”That’s what yon bells kept shoutin’ outAt Kirkby Overblow.But now I’m owd an’ bed-fast,I ommost like their sound,Ringin’ so clear i’ t’ star-leetAcross the frozzen ground.I niver mell on[4]parsons,There ain’t a prayer I know;But prayer an’ sarmon’s i’ yon bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.Six boards o’ gooid stout ellumIs what I’ll want to-morn;Then lay me low i’ t’ church-yardAneath t’ owd crooked thorn.I’ll have no funeral sarviceWhen I’m browt down below,But let ’em touzle t’ bells like madAt Kirkby Overblow.I don’t know wheer I’m boun’ for,It hardlins can be Heaven;I’ve sinned more sins nor most men’Twixt one an’ seven-seven.But this I’ll tak my oath on:Wheeriver I mun go,I’ll hark to t’ echoes o’ yon bellsO’ Kirkby Overblow.
[1]Unwieldy, grumbling rascals.
[2]Hoarse.
[3]Snare.
[4]Meddle with.