The tall grown youth a-steppèn proud,
The father staïd, the house's staÿ.
No; I can boast if others can,
I'm vull a man.
A young-cheäk'd mother's tears mid vall,
When woone a-lost, not half man-tall,
Vrom little hand, a-called vrom plaÿ,
Do leäve noo tool, but drop a taÿ,
An' die avore he's father-free
To sheäpe his life by his own plan;