Tha may weel goa an' peark up oth' thack,
Thi bonny wings shakin wi fear.
Aw should think 'at theease rattlin looms
Saand queer sooart o' music to thee;
An' tha'll hardly quite relish th' perfumes
O' miln-grease,—what th' quality be.
Maybe' tha'rt disgusted wi' us,
An' thinks we're a low offald set
But tha'rt sadly mistaen if tha does,
For ther's hooap an' ther's pride in us yet.