Young Alick gate wed, as all gradely chaps do,
An tuk Sally for better or war;
A daycenter felly ne'er foller'd a ploo, -
Th' best lad ov his mother's bi far.
An shoo wor as nice a young lass as yo'll see
In a day's march, aw'll wager mi hat;
But yo know unless fowk's dispositions agree,
Tho' they're bonny, - noa matter for that.
They'd better bi hawf have a hump o' ther rig,
Or be favvor'd as ill as old Flew;
If ther temper is sweet, chaps 'll net care a fig,
Tho' his wife may have one ee or two.
Young Sally had nivver been used to a farm,
An shoo seem'd to know nowt abaat wark;
Shoo set wi' her tooas up o'th' fender to warm,
Readin novels throo mornin to dark.
Alick saw 'at sich like gooins on wod'nt do,
Soa one neet when they'd getten to bed,
He tell'd her he thowt shoo'd best buckle too,
Or else we'st be ruined, he sed.
Says Sally, "its cappin to hear thi awm sewer,
For tha tell'd me befooar we wor wed,
Tha'd be happy wi me, an tha wanted nowt mooar
If aw nivver stirred aght o' mi bed."
"Tha sed aw wor bonny, an th' leets o' mi een
Wor enuff for thi sunshine throo life;
An tha tell'd me tha wanted to mak me a queen, -
But it seems 'at tha wanted a wife."
"Aw'm willin to own love's all reight in its way,
An aw'm glad aw've discovered soa sooin
'At love withaat labor sooin dwindles away, -
For fowk can't live o' billin an cooin."
"That's my nooation too, - but aw thowt tha should try,
What a wife as a laikon could be;
Noa daat tha's fan livin o' love rayther dry,
For aw'll own aw'd grown sickened o' thee."
What it Comes to.
John Hartley
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