JOHN BUMKINS LUCY

Clare having a bit of fun with the Northamptonshire dialect of his day.  Most of us are used to having a glossary of Northamptonshire words and phrases when we read almost any of Clare's work, but the four verses of 'John Bumkins Lucy' almost need a glossary of their own.  I particularly like lines 7 & 8 :

"How-so-miver she beets all the wenches I kno

An' hur big-roundy bosom is witer then sno"

Well stop bill wi' dogging me so oer an' oer

I've told yah hur name—what and now summot more?
Gosh boy but thats hardish to tell yah wi out—hur
Hur looks an hur tallnes an all things about—hur

—La' us see whot is like to tha straitness of hur
Theres summot cums near to't d' yah see yender fur
Well then do yah mind me she's straiter then that
An' hur eye's an' hur hair is az blak az my hat
     O' my pritty deer Lucy az I am a sinnur
Hite op wi' old byard go on
     I'll zartinly do all I can for to win hur
     Ha az shure az my crisn'd name's jon

Hur face is not like to yahr kitts i' the town
Nor fine coking jinny's so roozy an' brown
No if yah did kno hur yah'd think em a site
Its so wite an' red sumhow I cant tell yah rite
But I think if tha rosey an' may grow'd togither
'Tw'd be summot like-it but not so fine nither
How-so-miver she beets all the wenches I kno
An' hur big-roundy bosom is witer then sno
     O' my pritty deer lucy az I am a sinnur
Hite op wi old byard go on
     I'll zartinly do all I can for to win hur
     Ha az shure az my crisn'd name's jon

Now Ive told yah about hur az much az I can
How to get hur bill-boy is the next thing to plan
Well that I can deel wi' an' soon yah shal see
Jon Bumkin a shentleman fine oz can be
An' now then to tell yah a bit o' my pride
This greezey old smokfrok I'll fost thro aside
Nex I'll change this old crap for a fine beaver hat
Drest about wi a blak ribbin bo' an' all that
     Then so wastly fine bill-boy az I am a sinnur
Hite op wi' old byard go on
     'T'will zartinly be a good shilling to win hur
     Ha oz shure oz my crisn'd name's jon

Then there'll be the waiscot an' briches an' cote
An' lite shoo's an stokin's wi' all tha' best sote
Then old women will chatter an' say ‘he looks neet
‘From tha crown of his hed to tha sole of his feet’
But I shal think more wen they cum to be mine
That better then neetnes they'll look very fine
How-so-miver it sing-i-fys nothink to me
If thee will but noistish an' do but agree
     Wi' my pritty deer Lucy—for az I am a sinnur
Hite op wi' old byard go on
     I'll zartinly do all I can for to win hur
     Ha az shure oz my crisn'd name's jon

EP I 196