Daan her cheeks noa tears are runnin,
   Shoo’s been shov’d aside befoor;
Used to scoffs, an’ sneers, an’shunnin—­
   Shoo expects it, coss shoo’s poor;
Schooil’d for years her grief to smother,
Still shoos human—­tha’rt her brother.

Tho’ tha’rt donn’d i’ fine black cloathin,
A kid glove o’ awther hand,
Dunnot touch her roughly, loathin—­
Shoo’s thi sister, understand: 
Th’ wind maks merry wi’ her tatters,
Poor lost pilgrim!—­but what matters?

Lulk ha sharp her elbow’s growin,
   An’ ha pale her little face,
An’ her hair neglected, showin
   Her’s has been a sorry case;
O, mi heart felt sad at th’ seet,
When tha shov’d her into th’ street

Ther wor once a “Man,” mich greater
   Nor thisen wi’ all thi brass,
Him, awr blessed Mediator,—­
   Wod He scorn that little lass? 
Noa, He called ’em, an’ He blessed ’em,
An’ His hands divine caress’d ’em.

Goa thi ways I an’ if tha bears net
   Some regret for what tha’s done,
If tha con pass on, an’ cares net
   For that sufferin’ little one;
Then ha’iver poor shoo be,
Yet shoos rich compared wi’ thee.

Oh! ’at this breet gold should blind us,
   To awr duties here below! 
For we’re forced to leave behind us
   All awr pomp, an’ all awr show: 
Why then should we slight another? 
Shoo’s thi sister, unkind brother.

Persevere.

What tho’ th’ claads aboon luk dark,
   Th’ sun’s just waitin to peep throo,
Let us buckle to awr wark,
   For ther’s lots o’ jobs to do: 
Tho’ all th’ world luks dark an’ drear,
   Let’s ha’ faith, an’ persevere.

He’s a fooil ‘at sits an’ mumps
   ’Coss some troubles hem him raand! 
Man mud allus be i’th dumps,
   If he sulk’d coss fortun fraand;
Th’ time ‘ll come for th’ sky to clear:—­
   Let’s ha’ faith, an’ persevere.

If we think awr lot is hard,
   Niver let us mak a fuss;
Lukkin raand, at ivery yard,
   We’st find others war nor us;
We have still noa cause to fear! 
Let’s ha’ faith, an’ persevere.

A faint heart, aw’ve heeard ’em say,
   Niver won a lady fair: 
Have a will! yo’ll find a way! 
   Honest men ne’er need despair. 
Better days are drawin’ near:—­
Then ha’ faith, an’ persevere.

Workin men,—­nah we’ve a voice,
   An’ con help to mak new laws;
Let us iver show awr choice
   Lains to strengthen virtue’s cause,
Wrangs to reighten,—­griefs to cheer;
This awr motto—­’persevere.’

Let us show to foreign empires
   Loyalty’s noa empty booast;
We can scorn the thirsty vampires
   If they dar molest awr cooast: 
To awr Queen an’ country dear
Still we’ll cling an’ persevere.

But as on throo life we hurry,
   By whativer path we rooam,
Let us ne’er forget i’th’ worry,
   True reform begins at hooam: 
Then, to prove yorsens sincere,
Start at once; an’ persevere.