But ther maisters forget they should care
For a chap 'at's three bairns an' a wife.
They give dinners at th' hall ivery neet,
An' ther's carriages stand in bi'th scoor,
An' all th' windows are blazin wi leet,
But they seldom give dinners to th' poor.
I' mi pocket aw hav'nt a rap,
Nor a crust, nor a handful o' mail;
An' unless we can get it o'th strap,
We mun pine, or mun beg, or else stail.