Avore two daughters, that do stand,
Wi’ leärnsome minds, to watch her hand
A-sheäpèn out, wi’ skill an’ ceäre,
A frock vor them to zew an’ wear.
“Then next you’ll zee her bend her head
Above her aïlèn husband’s bed,
A-fannèn, wi’ an inward praÿ’r,
His burnèn brow wi’ beäten aïr;
The while the clock, by candle light,
Do show that ’tis the dead o’ night.
“An’ here ageän upon the wall,
Where we do zee her last ov all,
Her husband’s head’s a-hangèn low,
’Ithin his hands in deepest woe.
An’ she, an angel ov his God,
Do cheer his soul below the rod,
A-liftèn up her han’ to call
His eyes to writèn on the wall.
As white as is her spotless robe,
‘Hast thou rememberèd my servant Job?’
“An’ zoo the squier, in grief o’ soul,
Built up the Tower upon the knowl.”
FATHERHOOD.
Let en zit, wi’ his dog an’ his cat,
Wi’ their noses a-turn’d to the vier,
An’ have all that a man should desire;
But there idden much reädship in that.
Whether vo’k mid have childern or no,
Wou’dden meäke mighty odds in the maïn;
They do bring us mwore jaÿ wi’ mwore ho,
