A little lad, - bare wor his feet, His 'een wor swell'd an red, Wor sleepin, one wild New Year's neet, - A cold doorstep his bed. His little curls wor drippin weet, His clooas wor thin an old,...
On the sixteenth of June, eighteen eighty-three, The children of Sunderland hastened to see, Strange wonders performed by a mystic man, Believing, - as only young children can....
Its a long time sin thee an' me have met befoor, owd lad, - Soa pull up thi cheer, an sit daan, for ther's noabdy moor welcome nor thee: Thi toppin's grown whiter nor once, - yet mi heart feels glad,...
Just listen to mi stooary lads, It's one will mak yo grieve; It's full ov sich strange incidents; Yo hardly can believe. That lass aw cooarted, went one neet Aght walkin wi' a swell;...
Niver try to mak a fooil ov onybody this month; ther's fooils enuff i'th world already. It's oft struck me what a varry slight difference ther is between a wise man and a fooil; one aims at summat an' hits it - tother aims at s...
A'a! its grand to have th' place to yorsen! To get th' wimmen fowk all aght o'th' way! Mine's all off for a trip up to th' Glen, An aw've th' haase to misen for a day. ...
"Nah, lass, caar thi daan, an let's have a chat, - It's long sin we'd th' haase to ussen; Just give me thi nooations o' this thing an that, What tha thinks abaat measures an men....
"Come, John lad, tell me what's to do, Tha luks soa glum an sad; Is it becoss tha'rt short o' brass? Or are ta poorly, lad? Has sombdy been findin fault, Wi' owt tha's sed or done?...
Yo fowk 'at's some brass to invest, Luk sharp an mak th' best ov yor chonce! Aw'll gie yo a tip, - one o'th' best, Whear ther's profit an safety for once. Yo needn't be feeard th' bank 'll brust,...
When rich fowk are feastin, an poor fowk are grooanin, Ther's summat 'at connot be reight. Wol one lot are cheerin, another lot's mooanin For want ov sufficient to ait....
Oh the snow, - the bright fleecy snow! Isn't it grand when the north breezes blow? Isn't it bracing the ice to skim o'er, With a jovial friend or the one you adore?...
Aw know some fowk will call it crime, To put sich stooaries into ryhme, But yet, contentedly aw chime Mi simple ditty: An if it's all a waste o' time, The moor's the pity.
It nobbut luks like tother day, Sin Jane an me first met; Yet fifty years have rolled away, But still aw dooant forget. Th' Sundy schooil wor ovver, An th' rain wor teemin daan...
Little childer, - little childer; Harken to an old man's ditty; Tho yo live ith' country village, - Tho yo live ith' busy city. Aw've a little tale to tell yo, - One 'at ne'er grows stale wi' tellin, -...
Ther's a Squire lives at th' Hall 'at's lukt up to, As if he wor ommost a god. He's hansum, he's rich, an he's clivver, An fowk's praad if he gives 'em a nod. He keeps carriages, horses an dogs,...
A'a dear, what it is to be big! To be big i' one's own estimation, To think if we shake a lawse leg, 'At th' world feels a tremblin sensation. To fancy 'at th' nook 'at we fill,...
Wod yo leead a happy life? Aw can show yo ha, - Get a true an lovin wife, - (Yo may have one nah.) If yo have, remember this, Be a true man to her, An whativver gooas amiss,...