(IN THE DIALECT OF HIGH FURNESS.)
Māp’ment—Martha—māp’ment!
Thow knā’sn’t what thow says—
An’ thow fair torments my heart owt
Wi’ thy lile contrairy ways—
It’s oa’ a heeap o’ māp’ment
Ut say ’at this or that,
Sūd meeak us put it off ageean—
Thow toaks thow knā’sn’t what!
We irrn’t rich, an’ mayn’t be;
What than!—wi’ time an’ keear,
An’ pu’in’ weel togidder,
We may meeak our little meear.
We s’ niver, I’s insuer us,
Be neeàk’t or clemm’d or cāld
But spār’ a ho’penny or two
Ut cheer us when we’re āld.
Let’s feeace, Martha, feeace it,
Whativer cūms behint!
God niver sends a mowth wi’owt
A sūm’at ut put in’t.
We s’, happen, hev a mowth or two
Ut feed besides owr ā’n,
What matter—they s’ be welcome o’
Ut share whativer’s gā’n!
We s’ ol’a’s hing togidder weel,
An’ beeath du what we can—
A borden ’s leeter shared by two,
Nor when it’s borne by yan.
But if we’s plagued wi’ trūbble,
(An’ whā’s fray trūbble free?)
I’ s’ try ut lig thy share tull mine,
An’ kep it oa’ fray thee.
An’ if we’s pooer, we s’ sham’ nin,
For rich fooak’s no’but fooak;
An’ whā can tell, we s’ happen drā
Sūm’ prize fray fortun’s pooak.
But wrowte-for punds gā’s farder far
Nor hundreds ’s gi’en or fūnd;
An’ sūm’ may be to t’ fooer for t’ barnes
When we gā ūnder t’ grūnd.
Cūm let’s hev neā meear māp’ment,
But gradely feeace owr chance;
I ’s off ut put owr exin’s in,
An’ git it deeun at yance.
Cūm! gi’ ’s a kiss o’ t’ heead on ’t,
An’ meeak na meear ut du;
My hand ’s here, wi’ my heart in ’t,
Tak’ them beeath—thou s’ niver rue!