An' would burn at the zight o' their wrongs.
I ha' nine lives, an' zoo if a half
O'm do cry, why the rest o'm mid laugh
All so plaÿvully, jaÿvully,
Happy wi' hope.
Tother night I come hwome a long road,
When the weather did sting an' did vreeze;
An' the snow—vor the day had a-snow'd—
Wer avroze on the boughs o' the trees;
An' my tooes an' my vingers wer num',