An' peaeir ov eyes so black as sloos,
The prettiest woones in all the pleaece,--
I'm sure I needen tell thee whose.

We got a back-bran', dree girt logs
So much as dree ov us can car;
We'll put em up athirt the dogs,
An' meaeke a vier to the bar.

An' ev'ry woone shall tell his teaele,
An' ev'ry woone shall zing his zong,
An' ev'ry woone wull drink his eaele
To love an' frien'ship all night long.

We'll snap the tongs, we'll have a ball,
We'll sheaeke the house, we'll lift the ruf,
We'll romp an' meaeke the maidens squall,
A catchen o'm at blind-man's buff.

Zoo come to-morrow night; an' mind,
Don't leaeve thy fiddle-bag behind;
We'll sheaeke a lag, an' drink a cup
O' eaele, to keep wold Chris'mas up.

KEEPEN UP O' CHRIS'MAS.

An' zoo you didden come athirt,
To have zome fun last night: how wer't?
Vor we'd a-work'd wi' all our might
To scour the iron things up bright,
An' brush'd an' scrubb'd the house all drough;
An' brought in vor a brand, a plock
O' wood so big's an uppen-stock,
An' hung a bough o' misseltoo,
An' ax'd a merry friend or two,
To keepen up o' Chris'mas.

An' there wer wold an' young; an' Bill,
Soon after dark, stalk'd up vrom mill.
An' when he wer a-comen near,
He whissled loud vor me to hear;
Then roun' my head my frock I roll'd,
An' stood in orcha'd like a post,
To meaeke en think I wer a ghost.
But he wer up to't, an' did scwold
To vind me stannen in the cwold,
A keepen up o' Chris'mas.

We play'd at forfeits, an' we spun
The trencher roun', an' meaede such fun!
An' had a geaeme o' dree-ceaerd loo,
An' then begun to hunt the shoe.
An' all the wold vo'k zitten near,
A-chatten roun' the vier pleaece,
Did smile in woone another's feaece.
An' sheaeke right hands wi' hearty cheer,
An' let their left hands spill their beer,
A keepen up o' Chris'mas.

ZITTEN OUT THE WOLD YEAR.

Why, rain or sheen, or blow or snow,
I zaid, if I could stand so's,
I'd come, vor all a friend or foe,
To sheaeke ye by the hand, so's;
An' spend, wi' kinsvo'k near an' dear,
A happy evenen, woonce a year,
A-zot wi' me'th
Avore the he'th
To zee the new year in, so's.

There's Jim an' Tom, a-grown the size
O' men, girt lusty chaps, so's,
An' Fanny wi' her sloo-black eyes,
Her mother's very dap's, so's;
An' little Bill, so brown's