TO THA DWELLERS O' THA WEST,
Tha Fruit o' longvul labour, years,
In theäze veo leaves at last appears.
Ta you, tha dwellers o' tha West,
I'm pleas'd that thâ shood be addresst:
Vor thaw I now in Lunnan dwell,
I mine ye still—I love ye well;
And niver, niver sholl vorget
I vust drâw'd breath in Zummerzet;
Amangst ye liv'd, and left ye zorry,
As you'll knaw when you hire my storry.
Theäze little book than take o' me;
'Tis âll I hâ just now ta gee
An when you rade o' Tommy Gool,
Or Tommy Came, or Pal at school,
Or Mr. Guy, or Fanny Fear,—
I thenk you'll shod vor her a tear)
Tha Rookery, or Mary's Crutch,
Tha cap o' which I love ta touch,
You'll vine that I do not vorget
My naatal swile—dear Zummerzet.