Them horses, aw knew varry weel,
Wi' ther trappins all shinin i' gold,
Had nivver known th' want of a meal,
Or a shelter to keep 'em thro' th' cold.

Even th' dogs have enuff an' to spare,
Tho' they ne'er worked a day i' ther life;
But ther maisters forget they should care
For a chap 'at's three bairns an' a wife.

They give dinners at th' hall ivery neet,
An' ther's carriages stand in bi'th scoor,
An' all th' windows are blazin wi leet,
But they seldom give dinners to th' poor.

I' mi pocket aw hav'nt a rap,
Nor a crust, nor a handful o' mail;
An' unless we can get it o'th strap,
We mun pine, or mun beg, or else stail.

But hoamwards aw'll point mi owd clogs
To them three little lambs an' ther dam;--
Aw wish they wor horses or dogs,
For its nobbut poor fowk 'at's to clam.

But they say ther is One 'at can see,
An' has promised to guide us safe through;
Soa aw'll live on i'hopes, an' surelee,
He'll find a chap summat to do.