By young chaps now, wi' sheämeless tongue:
Zing me wold ditties, that would start
The maïden's tears, or stir my heart
To teäke in life a manly peärt,—
The wold vo'k's zongs that twold a teäle,
An' vollow'd round their mugs o' eäle,
The music o' the dead, John.
THE PLEÄCE A TEÄLE'S A-TWOLD O'.
Why tidden vields an' runnèn brooks,