Shoo wor th' bonniest lass i' all th' taan,
An fowk sed as they saw us that day,
When we coom aght o' th' church, arm i' arm,
Shoo wor throwin' hersen reight away.
But shoo smiled i' mi face as we went,
An her arm clung moor tightly to mine;
"Aw feel happy," shoo sed, "an content
To know at tha'rt mine an awm thine."
Aw wor praad ov her bonny breet een,—
Aw wor praad ov her little white hand,—
An aw thowt shoo wor fit for a queen,
For ther wornt a grander ith' land.
We gat on varry weel for a bit,
An aw stuck to mi wark like a man,
An enjoying mi hooam, thear awd sit,
As a chap at works hard nobbut can.
We hadn't been wed quite a year,
When they showed me a grand little lad,
An th' old wimmen sed, "Sithee! luk here!
He's th' image exact ov his dad."
But mi mates nivver let me alooan,
Till aw joined i' ther frolics and spree,
An tho' Bessy went short, or had nooan,
Shoo wor kinder nor ivver to me.
Sometimes when shoo's ventur'd to say,
"Come hooam an stop in lad, to-neet."
Awve felt shamed an awve hurried away,
For her een have been glist'nin wi weet.
An awve sed to misen 'at awd mend,
For it's wrang to be gooin on soa;
But at neet back to th' aleus awd wend,
Wi th' furst swillgut at ax'd me to goa.
Two childer wor added to th' stock,
But aw drank, an mi wark went to th' bad;
An awve known em be rooarin for jock,
Wol awve druffen what they should ha had.
Aw seldom went hooam but to sleep,
Tho Bessy ne'er offered to chide;
But grief 'at is silent is deep,
An sorrow's net easy to hide.