Poetry > Ballads in the Cumberland dialect

CUMBEKLAND BALLADS.
28
Pur Tib at the cwose-house has been,
! She tells us they’re monstrous murry;
At Carel the brig's tummel’d down,
i And they tek the fwok owre in a whurry;
11 carried our whye to the bull;
I , They’ve ta’en seeben spies up at Dover;
! My fadder compleens of his hip,
, And the Grand Turk has enter’d Hanover.
i Daft Peg’s got hersel, man, wi’ bairn,
* And silly Pilgarlic’s the fadder;
! Lai Sim’s geane and swapp’d the black cowt,
;', And cwoley hes wurried the wedder;
My mudder hes got frostet heels,
S And peace is the talk o’ the nation,
> For papers say, varra neist week
There’s to be a grand humiliation.*
iAunt Meable has lost her best sark,
j! And Gleutie is bleam’d varra mickle;
i ^ought’s seafe out o’ duirs now-a-days,
! Frae a millstone, een down to a sickle;
The clock it strikes eight, I mun heame,
: Or Ps git a deuce of a fratchin;
[When neist we’ve a few hours to spare.
We’ll fin out what mischief’s a-hatchin.
j My 5,1802.
THE WORTON WEDDING.
Tune—“Dainty Davie.”
J 0, sec a weddin I’ve been at !6
; De’il bin, what cap’rin, feghtin, vap’rin !7
Priest and dark, and aw gat drunk—■
l Rare deins there were there:
* Illumination.