Then o’th’ Sundy ther’s cooking ’em th’ dinner,
   It’s ther only warm meal in a wick;
Tho’ ther’s some say aw must be a sinner,
   For it’s paving mi way to Old Nick.

But a chap mun be like to ha’ summat,
   An’ aw can’t think it’s varry far wrang,
Just to cook him an’ th’ childer a dinner,
   Tho’ it may mak me rayther too thrang.

But if yor a wife an’ a mother,
   Yo’ve yor wark an’ yor duties to mind;
Yo mun leearn to tak nowt as a bother,
   An’ to yor own comforts be blind.

But still, just to seer all ther places,
   When they’re gethred raand th’ harston at neet,
Fill’d wi six roosy-red, smilin’ faces;
   It’s nooan a despisable seet.

An, aw connot help thinkin’ an’ sayin’,
   (Tho’ yo may wonder what aw can mean),
‘At if single, aw sooin should be playin’
   Coortin tricks, an’ be weddin’ agean.

What is It.

What is it maks a crusty wife
Forget to scold, an’ leeave off strife? 
What is it smoothes the rooad throo life? 
      It’s sooap.

What is it maks a gaumless muff
Grow rich, an’ roll i’ lots o’ stuff,
Woll better men can’t get enough? 
      It’s sooap.

What is it, if it worn’t theear,
Wod mak some fowk feel varry queer,
An’ put ’em:  i’ ther proper sphere? 
      It’s sooap.

What is’ it maks fowk wade throo th’ snow,
To goa to th’ church, becoss they know
‘At th’ squire’s at hooam an’ sure to goa? 
      It’s sooap.

What is it gains fowk invitations,
Throo them ‘at live i’ lofty stations? 
What is it wins mooast situations? 
      It’s sooap.

What is it men say they detest,
Yet alus like that chap the best
’At gives ’em twice as mich as th’ rest? 
      It’s sooap.

What is it, when the devil sends
His agents raand to work his ends,
What is it gains him lots o’ friends? 
      It’s sooap.

What is it we should mooast despise,
An’ by its help refuse to rise,
Tho’ poverty’s befoor awr eyes? 
      It’s sooap.

What is it, when life’s wastin’ fast,
When all this world’s desires are past,
Will prove noa use to us at last? 
      It’s sooap.

Come thi Ways!

Bonny lassie, come thi ways,
   An’ let us goa together! 
Tho’ we’ve met wi stormy days,
   Ther’ll be some sunny weather: 
An’ if joy should spring for me,
   Tha shall freely share it;
An’ if trouble comes to thee,
   Aw can help to bear it.

Tho thi mammy says us nay,
   An’ thi dad’s unwillin’;
Wod ta have me pine away
   Wi’ this love ‘at’s killin’? 
Come thi ways, an’ let me twine
   Mi arms once moor abaght thee;
Weel tha knows mi heart is thine,
   Aw couldn’t live withaat thee.

Ivery day an’ haar ’at slips,
   Some pleasure we are missin’,
For those bonny rooasy lips
   Aw’m niver stall’d o’ kissin’,
If men wor wise to walk life’s track
   Withaat sith joys to glad ’em,
He must ha’ made a sad mistak
   ’At gave a Eve to Adam.