Come, bring a log o’ cleft wood, Jack,
An’ fling en on ageaen the back,
An’ zee the outside door is vast,—
The win’ do blow a cwoldish blast.
Come, so’s! come, pull your chairs in roun’
Avore the vire; an’ let’s zit down,
An’ keep up Martin’s-tide, vor I
Shall keep it up till I do die.
‘Twer Martinmas, and ouer feaeir,
When Jeaene an’ I, a happy peaeir,
Vu’st walk’d, a-keepen up the tide,
Among the stan’ens, zide by zide;
An’ thik day twel’month, never failen,
She gi’ed me at the chancel railen
A heart—though I do sound her praise—
As true as ever beaet in stays.
How vast the time do goo! Do seem
But yesterday,—'tis lik’ a dream!
Ah, s[=o]'s! ’tis now zome years agoo
You vu’st knew me, an’ I knew you;
An’ we’ve a-had zome bits o’ fun,
By winter vire an’ zummer zun.
Aye; we’ve a-prowl’d an’ rigg’d about
Lik’ cats, in harm’s way mwore than out,
An’ busy wi’ the tricks we play’d
In fun, to outwit chap or maid.
An’ out avore the bleaezen he’th,
Our naisy tongues, in winter me’th,
‘V a-shook the warmen-pan, a-hung
Bezide us, till his cover rung.
There, ’twer but tother day thik chap,
Our Robert, wer a child in lap;
An’ Poll’s two little lags hung down
Vrom thik wold chair a span vrom groun’,
An’ now the saucy wench do stride
About wi’ steps o’ dree veet wide.
How time do goo! A life do seem
As 'twer a year; ’tis lik’ a dream!
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