Читать книгу Random Rhymes and Rambles - Bill o'th' Hoylus End - Страница 4

So Mary, lass, tha’rt bahn to wed

It morning we young blacksmith Ned,

And tho it makes thy mother sad,

      Its like to be;

I’ve nout ageean yond decent lad

      No more ner thee.

Bud let me tell thee what ta due,

For my advice might help thee thru;

Be kind, and to thy husband true,

      An I’ll be bun

Tha’ll nivver hev a day ta rue,

      For out tha’s done.

Nah, try to keep thi former knack,

An due thi weshing in a crack,

Bud don’t be flaid to bend thi back,

      Tha’ll nobbut sweeat;

So try an hev a bit o’ tack,

      An do it neat.

Be sure tha keeps fra being a flirt,

An pride thysel e being alert, —

An mind to mend thi husband’s shirt,

      An keep it clean;

It wod thy poor oud mother hurt,

      If tha wor mean.

Don’t kal abaht like monny a wun,

Then hev to broil, an sweeat, an run;

Bud, alus hev thy dinner done,

      Withaht a mooild;

If its nobbut meil, lass, set it on,

      An hev it boiled.

So Mary, I’ve no more to say —

Tha gets thy choice an’ tak thy way;

An if tha leets to rue, I pray,

      Don’t blame thy mother:

I wish you monny a happy day

      We wun another.