Tho' the proud an' the wealthy may prate,
An' booast o' ther riches and land,
Some o'th' laadest ul sink second-rate
To that lad with his little black hand.


Lilly's Gooan

"Well, Robert! what's th' matter! nah mun,
Aw see 'at ther's summat nooan sweet;
Thi een luk as red as a sun--
Aw saw that across th' width of a street;
Aw hope 'at yor Lily's noa war--
Surelee--th' little thing is'nt deead?
Tha wod roor, aw think, if tha dar--
What means ta bi shakin thi heead?
Well, aw see bi thi sorrowful e'e
At shoo's gooan, an' aw'm soory, but yet,
When youngens like her hap ta dee,
They miss troubles as some live to hit.
Tha mun try an' put up wi' thi loss,
Tha's been praad o' that child, aw mun say,
But give over freatin, becoss
It's for th' best if shoo's been taen away."
"A'a! Daniel, it's easy for thee
To talk soa, becoss th' loss is'nt thine;
But its ommost deeath-blow to me,
Shoo wor prized moor nor owt else 'at's mine;
An' when aw bethink me shoo's gooan,