Wi noa bed to lig daan on at neet
But i'th' warkus, or th' cold-lukkin flags;
Then aw think, if rich fowk nobbut' knew
What ther brothers i' poverty feel,
They'd a trifle moor charity show,
An' help 'em sometimes to a meal.
But we're all far too fond of ussen,
To bother wi' things aght o'th' seet;
An' we leeav to ther fate sich as them
'At's noa bed nor noa supper' at neet.