An’ they all come so busy an’ thick
As the bees vlee-èn into their hive,
An’ they meäde me so happy an’ proud,
That my heart could ha’ crow’d out a-loud;
They did tweil zoo, an’ smile zoo,
An’ coll me so cwold.
As I zot wi’ my teacup, at rest,
There I pull’d out the taÿs I did bring;
Men a-kickèn, a-wagg’d wi’ a string,
An’ goggle-ey’d dolls to be drest;
An’ oh! vrom the childern there sprung
Such a charm when they handled their taÿs,
That vor pleasure the bigger woones wrung
Their two hands at the zight o’ their jaÿs;
As the bwoys’ bigger vaïces vell in
Wi’ the maïdens a-titterèn thin,
An’ their dancèn an’ prancèn,
An’ little mouth’s laughs.
Though ’tis hard stripes to breed em all up,
If I’m only a-blest vrom above,
They’ll meäke me amends wi’ their love,
Vor their pillow, their pleäte, an’ their cup;
Though I shall be never a-spweil’d
Wi’ the sarvice that money can buy;
Still the hands ov a wife an’ a child
Be the blessèns ov low or ov high;
An’ if there be mouths to be ved,
He that zent em can zend me their bread,
An’ will smile on the chile
That’s a-new on the knee.
