Th' Honest Hard Worker.
It's hard what poor fowk mun put u'p wi'!
What insults an' snubs they've to tak!
What bowin an' scrapin's expected,
If a chap's a black coit on his back.
As if clooas made a chap ony better,
Or riches improved a man's heart,
As if muck in a carriage smell'd sweeter
Nor th' same muck wod smell in a cart.
Give me one, hard workin, an' honest,
Tho' his clooas may be greasy and coorse;
If it's muck 'ats been getten bi labor,
It does'nt mak th' man ony worse.
Awm sick o' thease simpering dandies,
'At think coss they've getten some brass,
They've a reight to luk daan at th' hard workers,
An' curl up their nooas as they pass.
It's a poor sooart o' life to be leadin,
To be curlin an' partin ther hair;
An' seekin one's own fun and pleasure,
Niver thinkin ha others mun fare.
It's all varry weel to be spendin
Ther time at a hunt or a ball,
But if th' workers war huntin an' doncin,
Whativer wad come on us all?
Ther's summat beside fun an' frolic
To live for, aw think, if we try;
Th' world owes moor to a honest hard worker
Nor it does to a rich fly-bi-sky.
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