Poetry > Ballads in the Cumberland dialect

CUMBERLAND BALLADS.
83
THE BUNDLE OF ODDITIES.
Tune—“ Fie, let us a' to the bridal."
Sit down, and I’ll count owre my sweethearts,14
For, faith, a brave number I’ve had,
Sin I furst went to schuil wi’ Dick Railton,
But Dick’s in his greave, honest lad!
f I mind when he cross’d the deep watter,
To get me the shilapple’s est,
How he fell owrehead, and I skirl’d sae,
l Then off we ran heame, sair distrest.
S Then there was a bit of a teaylear,
That work’d at our house a heale week,
: He was sheap’d aw the warl like a trippet,
| But niver a word durst he speak;
' I just think I see how he squinted
,1 At me, when we sat down to meat;
i Owre went his het keale on his blue breeks,
J And de’il a bit Snippy could eat.
1 At partin he poud up his spirits,
Says he, “Tou hes bodder’d my head,
And it sheks yen to rags and to tatters.
To sew wi’ a lang double thread;”
Then, in meakin a cwoat for my fadder,
(How luive dis the senses deceive!)
Forby usin marrowless buttons,
To th’ pocket-whol he stitch’d a sleeve.10
( The neist was a Whaker, caw’d Jacob,
i He turn’d up the wheyte o’ his een,
I And talk’d about flesh and the spirit—
■ Thowt I, what can Gravity mean ?