Aw'm but a warkin chap.
But if aw had a lot o' brass
Aw'd think o' them 'at's poor;
Aw'd have yo' childer workin' less,
An' mak yor wages moor.
Poor lassie wan, &c.

"There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign,
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain."
Noa fact'ry bell shall greet thi ear,
I' that sweet home ov love;
An' those 'at scorn thi sufferins here
May envy thee above.
Poor lassie wan, &c.


Th' First o'th Sooart

Aw heeard a funny tale last neet--
Aw could'nt howd fro' laffin--
'Twor at th' Bull's Heead we chonced to meet,
An' spent an haar i' chaffin.
Some sang a song, some cracked a joak,
An' all seem'd full o' larkin;
An' th' raam war blue wi' bacca smook,
An' ivery e'e'd a spark in.

Long Joa 'at comes thro th' Jumples cluff,