My adlings wared,(7) and yet my rent to pay,
My geese, like Susan's faith, flown far away;
My cattle, like their master, lank and poor,
My heart with hopeless love to pieces tore,
And all these sorrows came syne(8) Snaith Marsh was no more
1. Well-milked kine (cattle) 2. Pail 3. Finding Fault
4. Makes 5. Mighty 6. Fond, Foolish 7. Earnings spent
8. Since
When at Hame wi' Dad
Anonymous
When at hame wi' dad,
We niver had nae fun, sir,
Which meade me sae mad,
I swore away I'd run, sir.
I pack'd up clease(1) sae smart,
Ribbed stockings, weastcoats pretty;
Wi' money an' leet heart,
Tripp'd off to Lunnon city,
Fal de ral de ra.
When I did git there
I geap'd about quite silly,
At all the shows to stare
I' a spot call'd Piccadilly.
Lord! sike charmin' seights:
Bods(2) i' cages thrive, sir',
Coaches, fiddles, feights,
An' crocodiles alive, sir,
Fal de ral de ra.
Then I did gan to see
The gentry in Hyde Park, sir,
When a lass push'd readely(1) by,
To whom I did remark, sir:
"Tho' your feace be e'en sae fair,
I've seen a bear mair civil."
Then, the laatle clease they wear!
God! Lunnon is the divil,
Fal de ral de ra.
To t' play-house then I goes,
Whar I seed merry feaces,
An' i' the lower rows
Were sarvants keepin' pleaces.
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