An' then, as yor totterin' daan,
An' th' last grains o' sand are i'th glass,
Yo' may find 'at yo've purchased a craan
Wi' makkin gooid use o' yor brass.


Th' Little Stranger

Little bonny, bonny babby,
How tha stares, an' weel tha may,
For its but an haar, or hardly,
Sin' tha furst saw th' leet o' day.

A'a! tha little knows, young moppet,
Ha aw'st have to tew for thee;
May be when aw'm forced to drop it,
'At tha'll do a bit for me.

Are ta maddled, mun, amang it?
Does ta wonder what aw mean?
Aw should think tha does, but dang it!
Where's ta been to leearn to scream?

That's noa sooart o' mewsic, bless thee!
Dunnot peawt thi lip like that!
Mun, aw hardly dar to nurse thee,
Feared awst hurt thee, little brat.

Come, aw'll tak thee to thi mother;
Shoo's moor used to sich nor me: