“Bud first, afoar tha starts to read,
I’ll tell thee who I is;
Tha lukes a dacent chap eniff—
I judge it by thi phiz.
“Well, I’ve a job fer thee to do—
That is, if tha will do it;
I think tha’rt t’likliest man I knaw,
Becos tha art a poet.
If I am not mistaen, mi friend,
I often hear thi name;
I think they call tha John o’ t’Bog”;—
Says I—“Owd lass, it’s t’same.”
“It’s just so mony years this day,
I knaw it by mi birth,
Sin’ I departed mortal life,
An’ left this wicked earth.
“But ere I closed these een to go
Into eternity,
I thowt I’d dew a noble act,
A deed o’ charity.
“I hed a bit o’ brass, tha knaws,
Some land an’ property;
I thowt it might be useful, John,
To folks i’ poverty.
“So then I made a will o’t’ lot,
Fer that did suit mi mind;
I planned it as I thowt wor t’best,
To benefit mankind.
“I left a lot ta t’ Grammar Skooil;
By reading t’will tha’ll see,
That ivvery body’s barn, tha knaws,
May hev ther skooilin’ free.
“An’ if tha be teetotal, John—
Tha may think it a fault—
To ivvery woman liggin’ in
I gav a peck o’ malt.
“Bud t’biggest bulk o’ brass ’at’s left,
As tha’ll hev heeard afooar,
Wor to be dealt half-yearly
Among ahr Keighley poor.