Bud to me tale, aw musant fail
Fer out on this occasion;
We heead erect, and girt respect,
We march to Keighley Station.
And Maud an’ t’ woife, az large az life,
Gat in’t train together;
They both did say, they’d have a day,
Among the blooming hether.
Nah—all fane gat in t’ train,
And Ned began to scream;
Then Master Pratt doft off his hat,
An’ pept aht at the steeam.
This jovial band, when they did land,
Got off the train so hearty,
For they all went, wi’ that intent,
To have a grand tea-party!
The country folk did gape an’ luke,
To see us all delighted,
For every one, did say begum,
Aw wish I’d been invited.
Its joy to tell, they march as well
As the Scots did ower the border,
Ould Wellington and all his men
Ne’er saw such marching order.
The lookers on, to see them come,
Get on the second story;
Right down the park they did the mark,
Coming e full glory.
Then to the place, each smiling face,
Move on in grand succession;
The lookers on did say “well done,
It iz a grand processhun!”
When they’d all past the hall at last,
They form’d into a column;
Then Jimmy Wreet, wi’ all hiz meet,
Gave aht a hymn so solemn:
Then all did raise their voice in praise,
We music in the centre;
They sang a hymn e praise o’ Him,
At iz the girt inventer.