I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place.
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road.
Aw've just mended th' fire wi' a cob; Owd Swaddle has brought thi new shoon;
OWD PINDER were a rackless foo, An’ spent his days i’ spreein’;
I've worn my bits o' shoon away, Wi' Rovin' up an' deawn,
When wintry weather's all a-done, An' brooks do sparkle in the zun,
In the zunsheen of our zummers Wi’ the hay time now a-come,
OH, there ’s mony a gate eawt ov eawr teawn-end, But nobbut one for me;
Ov all the birds upon the wing Between the zunny showers o' spring,-
News o' grief had overteaken Dark-eyed Fanny, now vorseaken;
When our downcast looks be smileless, Under others' wrongs an' slightens,
Since I noo mwore do zee your feäce, Up steärs or down below,
The girt woak tree that's in the dell! There's noo tree I do love so well;
Come to thy gronny, doy, come to thy gronny, Bless thee, to me tha'rt as pratty as onny;
We zot bezide the leafy wall, Upon the bench at evenfall,
When I led by zummer streams The pride o' Lea, as naighbours thought her,
I'm a weyver, ye knaw, an' awf deead, So I do all at iver I can
THE PRIMRWOSE in the shade do blow, The cowslip in the zun,
When sycamore leaves wer a-spreaden Green-ruddy in hedges,
'Tis merry ov a zummer's day, When vo'k be out a-haulèn hay,
O AYE! they had woone child bezide, An' a finer your eyes never met,
I'D a dream to-night As I fell asleep,
O! MARY, when the zun went down, Woone night in spring, w’ viry rim,
Owd Moxy wrowt hard for his morsil o' breead, An' to keep up his courage he'd sing,
Ah! sad wer we as we did peace the wold church road, wi' downcast feace,
Now the light o' the west is a-turn'd to gloom, An' the men be at hwome vrom ground;
Green mwold on zummer bars do show That they've a-dripped in winter wet;
No, I’m a man, I’m vull a man, You beat my manhood, if you can.
Hear me! ye firm and uncorrupted few, Followers of freedom! and of virtue too!
Last Easter Jim put on his blue Frock cwoat, the vu'st time-vier new;
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