In plaÿ, wi’ tiny shoes they wore,
An’ call’d their mother’s eyes to view
The feät’s their little limbs could do.
Oh! Ellen Brine ov Allenburn,
They childern now mus’ murn.
Then woone, a-stoppèn vrom his reäce,
Went up, an’ on her knee did pleäce
His hand, a-lookèn in her feäce,
An’ wi’ a smilèn mouth so small,
He zaid, “You promised us to goo
To Shroton feäir, an’ teäke us two!”
She heärd it wi’ her two white ears,
An’ in her eyes there sprung two tears,
Vor Ellen Brine ov Allenburn
Did veel that they mus’ murn.
September come, wi’ Shroton feäir,
But Ellen Brine wer never there!
A heavy heart wer on the meäre
Their father rod his hwomeward road.
’Tis true he brought zome feärèns back,
Vor them two childern all in black;
But they had now, wi’ plaÿthings new,
Noo mother vor to shew em to,
Vor Ellen Brine ov Allenburn
Would never mwore return.
THE MOTHERLESS CHILD
The zun’d a-zet back tother night,
But in the zettèn pleäce
The clouds, a-redden’d by his light,
Still glow’d avore my feäce.
An’ I’ve a-lost my Meäry’s smile,
