Za when a got upon Cock-hill
Upon a linch a zawt;
The zun had climmer'd up tha sky;
A voun it very hot.
An, as iz stomick war za good,
A made a horty meal;
An werry war wi' wâkin, zaw
A sleepid zoon did veel.
That blessed power o' bâmy sleep,
Which auver ivery sense
Da wi' wild whiverin whings extend
A happy influence;
Now auver Jerry Nutty drow'd
Er lissom mantle wide;
An down a drapp'd in zweetest zleep,
Iz zatchel by iz zide.
Not all tha nasty stouts could wâke
En vrom iz happy zleep,
Nor emmets thick, nor vlies that buz,
An on iz hons da creep.
Naw dreams a had; or nif a had
Mooäst pleasant dreams war thâ:
O' geese an goose-aggs, ducks and jitch;
Or Mally, vur awâ,
Zum gennelmen war dreavin by
In a gilded cawch za gâ;
Thâ zeed en lyin down asleep;
Thâ bid the cawchman stâ.
Thâ bâll'd thâ hoop'd—a niver wâk'd;
Naw houzen there war handy;
Zed one o'm, "Nif you like, my bways,
"We'll ha a little randy!"
"Jist put en zâtly in tha cawch
An dreav en ta Bejwâter;
An as we âll can't g'in wi'n here,
I'll come mysel zoon âter."
Twar done at once: vor norn o'm car'd
A strâ vor wine or weather;
Than gently rawl'd the cawch along,
As zât as any veather.