Poetry > Ballads in the Cumberland dialect

CUMBEBLAIO} BA1I/AD9.
161
Oh! had I coffined been, that day
I lost my liberty!
When young, I wish’d for weyfe and weans,
But now the thowt I scworn;
Thank Heav’n, a bairn o’ owther sex
To me she ne’er has bworn !
Leyke fuils we wish our youth away,
When happy we mud be—
Aw ye whee’re pleagued wi’ scauldin weyves,
I wish ye suin set free!
Grin, grinnin!—din, dinnin!
Toil and misery!
Better feed the kurk-yard wurms,
Than leeve sec slaves as we !
I’s past aw wark, it’s hard to want,
And auld and peer am I;
But happiness i’ this veyle warl,
Nae gear cud iver buy:
Oh, were I on some owre sea land,
Nae women nar to see,
At preyde an’ grandeur I wad smeyle,
An’ thanks to Heav’n wad gie:
0 woman! foe to man!
A blessin thou sud be;
But wae to him that wears thy chain,
Peer wretch unblest leyke me !
When wintry blasts blow loud an’ keen,
I’s fain to slink frae heame;
An’ rader feace the angry storm,
Than hur I hate to neame:
Wheyle she wi’ sland’rous cronies met,
Sits hatchin monie a lee;