Had tha iver been mi bride;
Content aw'll wear mi lonely lot,
Tho' mi poor heart forgets thee not.
Duffin Johnie.
(A Rifleman's Adventure.)
Th' mooin shone breet wi silver leet,
An' th' wind wor softly sighin,
Th' burds did sleep, an' th' snails did creep,
An' th' buzzards wor a flying;