Says he, "Good folks, let's sing."
I thowt some sang varra weel,
while others did grunt an' groan,
Ivery man sang what he wad,
so I sang " Darby an' Joan."(2)
When preachin' an' prayin' were over,
an' folks were gangin' away,
I went to t' chap i' t' topmost tub.
Says I, "Lad, what's to pay?"
"Why, nowt," says he, "my lad."
Begor! I were right fain,
So I click'd hod(3) o' my gret club stick
an' went whistlin' oot again.
1. Corn-sack 2. Another reading is "Bobbing Joan."
3. Took hold
A Song 1.
Thomas Browne (1771-1798)
Ye loit'ring minutes faster flee,
Y' are all ower slow by hauf for me,
That wait impatient for the mornin';
To-morn's the lang, lang-wish'd-for fair,
I'll try to shine the fooremost there,
Misen in finest claes adornin',
To grace the day.
I'll put my best white stockings on,
An' pair o' new cauf-leather shoon,
My clane wash'd gown o' printed cotton;
Aboot my neck a muslin shawl,
A new silk handkerchee ower all,
Wi' sike a careless air I'll put on,
I'll shine this day.
My partner Ned, I know, thinks he,
He'll mak hiss en secure o' me,
He's often said he'd treat me rarely;
But I's think o' some other fun,
I'll aim for some rich farmer's son,
And cheat oor simple Neddy fairly,
Sae sly this day.
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