It shows varry little sense for fowk to object to a new machine till they've tried it, or to fancy it'll be th' means o' smashin th' trade. Luk at th' paaer looms; when they I wor started all th' hand-loom weyvers struck wark, ...
Blackberries are ripe in September, an' we may consider th' year's ripe, for when this month gets turned, things 'll begin o' gooin' th' back way. Its vany wonderful when we look reight at it. This world's a wonderful spot, an'...
Mistress Moore is Johnny's wife, An Johnny is a druffen sot; He spends th' best portion of his life Ith' beershop wi a pipe an pot. At schooil together John an me Set side by side like trusty chums,...
Merrily rang out the midnight bells, Glad tidings of joy for all; As crouched a little shiv'ring child, Close by the churchyard wall. The snow and sleet were pitiless, The wind played with her rags,...
Life's pathway is full o' deep ruts, An we mun tak gooid heed lest we stumble; Man is made up of "ifs" and of "buts," It seems pairt ov his natur to grumble.
Aw like to see a lot o' lads All frolicsome an free, An hear ther noisy voices, As they run an shaat wi' glee; But if ther's onny sooart o' lad Aw like better nor another,...
Th' last month o' th' year; an' ther's summat rayther sorrowful abaat th' last o' owt, exceptin' trouble; an' still to me ther's allus summat varry interestin' abaat owt at's "th' last." Aw've watched men when they've been buil...
Aw'll nivver get druffen noa mooar, It's th' last time is this, an that's trew,-- For mi booans is all shakkin an sooar, Throo th' craan o' mi hat, to mi shoe.
A'a awm feeared tha's come too sooin, Little daisy! Pray, whativer wor ta doin? Are ta crazy? Winter winds are blowin' yet, - Tha'll be starved, mi little pet. ...
Its long sin th' parson made us one, An yet it seems to me, As we've gooan thrustin, toilin on, Time's made noa change i' thee. Tha grummeld o' thi weddin day, - Tha's nivver stopt it yet;...
Darling child, to thee I owe, More than others here will know; Thou hast cheered my weary days, With thy coy and winsome ways. When my heart has been most sad, Smile of thine has made me glad;...
Wake up my harp! thy strings begin to rust! Has the soul fled that once within thee dwelt? Idle so long, shake off that coat of dust! Are there no souls to cheer, no hearts to melt?...
Ther's mewsic ith' shuttle, ith' loom, an ith frame, Ther's melody mingled ith' noise; For th' active ther's praises, for th' idle ther's blame, If they'd harken to th' saand of its voice....
A'a, dear! what a life has a mother! At leeast, if they're hamper'd like me, Thro' mornin' to neet ther's some bother, An' ther will be, aw guess, wol aw dee.
As Rueben wor smookin his pipe tother neet, Bi th' corner o'th' little "Slip Inn;" He spied some fowk marchin, an fancied he heeard A varry queer sooart ov a din. As nearer they coom he sed, "Bless mi life!...