Blow me! aw ommost daat it too,
So thear's an end on't
Take Heart.
Roughest roads, we often find,
Lead us on to th' nicest places;
Kindest hearts oft hide behind
Some o'th' plainest-lukkin faces.
Flaars' whose colors breetest are,
Oft delight awr wond'ring seet;
But thers others, humbler far,
Smell a thaasand times as sweet.
Burds o' monny color'd feather,
Please us as they skim along,
But ther charms all put together,
Connot equal th' skylark's song.
Bonny women--angels seemin,--
Set awr hearts an' brains o' fire;
But its net ther beauties; beamin,
Its ther gooidness we admire.
Th' bravest man 'at's in a battle,
Isn't allus th' furst i'th' fray;
He best proves his might an' mettle,
Who remains to win the day.
Monkey's an' vain magpies chatter,
But it doesn't prove em wise;
An it's net wi noise an' clatter,
Men o' sense expect to rise.
'Tisn't them 'at promise freely,
Are mooast ready to fulfill;
An' 'tisn't them 'at trudge on dreely
'At are last at top o'th' hill.
Bad hauf-craans may pass as payment,
Gaudy flaars awr een beguile;
Women may be loved for raiment,
Show may blind us for a while;
But we sooin grow discontented,
An' for solid worth we sigh,
An' we leearn to prize the jewel,
Tho it's hidden from the eye.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42