The Bells Of Kirkby Overblow

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 bells O’ Kirkby Overblow. Mony a neet an’ mornin’ I’ve heerd yon church bells peal; An’ how I’ve threaped an’ cursed ’em When I was strong an’ weel! Gert, skelpin’, chunterin’ taistrils, All janglin’ in a row! Ay, mony a time I’ve cursed yon bells O’ Kirkby Overblow. When you hear yon church bells ringin’, You can’t enjoy your sin; T’ bells clutches at your heart-strings I’ 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 bells O’ Kirkby Overblow. An’ when I’ve set off poachin’ At back-end o’ the year, Wi’ ferret, bag an’ snickle, 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’ out At Kirkby Overblow. But now I’m owd an’ bed-fast, I ommost like their sound, Ringin’ so clear i’ t’ star-leet Across the frozzen ground. I niver mell on parsons, There ain’t a prayer I know; But prayer an’ sarmon’s i’ yon bells O’ Kirkby Overblow. Six boards o’ gooid stout ellum Is what I’ll want to-morn; Then lay me low i’ t’ church-yard Aneath t’ owd crooked thorn. I’ll have no funeral sarvice When I’m browt down below, But let ’em touzle t’ bells like mad At 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 bells O’ Kirkby Overblow.