He bathed her temples from the brook;
He sed shoo wor his life,
It made me queer, becoss aw'd sworn
To mak that lass mi wife.
Shoo coom araand, an ligg'd her heead,
Upon his heavin breast;
An then shoo skriked, an off aw ran,
But aw cannot tell the rest.
They tuk me for, &c.
They wedded wor, sooin after that,
Aw thowt mi heart wod braik;—
It didn't,—soa aw'm livin on,
An freeatin for her sake.
But sweet revenge,—it coom at last,
For childer shoo had three,
An they're all marked wi' a finger pooast
Whear it didn't owt to be.
They tuk me for, &c.
An Acrostic.
H a! if yo'd nobbut known that lass,
A w'm sure yo'd call her bonny;
N oa other could her charms surpass,
N oa other had as monny.
A n ha aw lost mi peace o' mind,
H ark! an aw'll tell if yor inclined.
C awered in a nook one day aw set,
R aand which wild flaars wor growin;
O, that sweet time aw'st ne'er forget,
S oa long as aw've mi knowin.
T hear aw first saw this lovely lass;
I n thowtful mood shoo tarried,
"C ome be mi bride, sweet maid!" aw cried:
"K eep off!" shoo skriked, "aw'm married!"
Help Thisen.
"Come, help thisen, lad,—help thisen!"
Wor what mi uncle sed.
We'd just come in throo makkin hay,
To get some cheese an breead.
An help misen aw did,—yo bet!
Aw wor a growin lad;
Aw thowt then, an aw fancy yet,
'Twor th' grandest feed aw'd had.
When aw grew up aw fell i' love,—
Shoo wor a bonny lass!
But bein varry young an shy,
Aw let mi chonces pass.
Aw could'nt for mi life contrive
A thing to do or say,
For fear aw should offend her, soa
Aw let her walk away.
But what aw suffered nooan can tell;—
Aw loved her as mi life!
But dursn't ax her for the world
To be mi darlin wife.
Aw desperate grew,—we met,—aw ax'd
For just one kuss,—an then,
Shoo blushed, an shook her bonny curls,
But let me help misen.