He gav me then ta understand,
If I hedant come to pray,
At t’grace o’ God an’ t’breead o’ life,
Wor all they gav away.
It’s fearful nice fer folk ta talk
Abaat ther breead o’ life,
An’ specially when they’ve plenty,
Fer t’childer an’ ther wife.
Bud I set off ageean at t’run,
Fer I weel understood,
If I gat owt fra that thear clahn,
It woddant do ma good.
I’ travellin’ on I thowt I heeard,
As I went nearer t’tahn,
A thaasand voices i’ mi ears,
Sayin’ “John, whear are ta bahn?”
In ivvery grocer’s shop I pass’d,
A play-card I could see,
I’ t’biggest type at e’er wod print—
“There’s nowt here, lad, fer thee.”
Wal ivvery butcher’s shop I pass’d,
Asteead o’ meit wor seen,
A mighty carvin’-knife hung up,
Reight fair afore mi een.
Destruction wor invitin’ me,
I saw it fearful clear,
Fer ivvery druggist window sed—
“Real poison is sold here.”
At last I gav a frantic howl,
A shaat o’ dreead despair,
I seized missen by t’toppin then,
An’ shack’d an’ lugged mi hair.
Then quick as leetnin’ ivver wor,
A thowt com i’ mi heead—
I’d tak a walk to t’Simetry,
An’ meditate wi’ t’deead.
T’owd Church clock wor striking’ t’ time
At folk sud be asleep,
Save t’Bobbies at wor on ther beat,
An’ t’Pindar after t’sheep.