l away,
An off they flee.

They tell me its a poison, an its bad effects they show;
Aw nivver contradict 'em but aw think its varry slow,
An bad to tell;
They say it leeads to drinkin, an drink leeads to summat war;
But aw know some at nivver smook 'at's getten wrang as far
As me misel.

They say its an example 'at we did'nt owt to set,--
For owt 'at's nowt young fowk sooin leearn, but dooant soa sooin forget,
That's varry true.
But aw shall be contented, if when comes mi time to dee,
To smook a pipe o' bacca is th' warst thing they've lent throo me:
Aw'st manage throo,

They say it maks one lazy, an time slips by unawares,--
It may be soa, an if it is, that's noa consarn o' theirs;
Aw work mi share.
If it prevents fowk meddlin wi' th' affairs ov other men,
'Twod happen be as weel, aw think, if they'd to smook thersen;--
They've time to spare.

But what they say ne'er matters, for aw act upon a plan,
If th' world affooards a pleasure awll enjoy it if aw can,
At morn or neet;
They may praich agean mi bacca, an may looad it wi' abuse,
But aw think its a gooid crayter if its put to a gooid use.
Pass me a leet.

Young Jockey.

Young Jockey he bowt him a pair o' new shooin,
Ooin, ooin, ry diddle dooin!
Young Jockey he bowt him a pair o' new shooin,
For he'd made up his mind he'd be wed varry sooin;
An he went to ax Jenny his wife for to be,
But shoo sed, "Nay, aw'll ne'er wed a hawbuck like thee,
Thi legs luk too lanky,
Thi heead is too cranky,
Its better bi th' hawf an old maid aw should dee!"

Young Jockey then went an he bowt him a gun,
Un, un, ry diddle dun!
Young Jockey then went an he bowt him a gun,
For his ivvery hooap i' this wide world wor done;
An he went an tell'd Jenny, to end all his pains,
He'd made up his mind 'at he'd blow aght his brains,
But shoo cared net a pin,
An shoo sed wi' a grin,--
"Befoor they're blown aght tha man get some put in."

Missed his Mark.

Aw like fowrk to succeed i' life if they've an honest aim,
An even if they chonce to trip awm varry loath to blame;
Its sich a simple thing sometimes maks failure or success,
Th' prize oft slips by strugglin men to them 'at's striven less.
Aw envy nubdy Fortun's smiles, aw lang for 'em misen,--
But them at win her favors should dispense 'em nah an then.
An them 'at's blest wi' sunshine let 'em think o' those i'th' dark,
An niv