AWVE HARD WARK TO HOWD UP MI YED. BY S. LAYCOCK, OF STALYBRIDGE.
Wherever aw trudge neaw a days,
Awm certain to see some owd friend
Lookin’ anxiously up I’ mi face,
An’ axin when times are beawn t’ mend.
Awm surprised heaw folks live, aw declare,
[1 word illegible] th' clammin’ and starvin’, they’n [stood]
[1 to 2 words illegible] ‘em, heaw [ [patient] ] they are –
[1 to 2 words illegible] aw could help ‘em, aw would.
But really awve nowt aw [cun] give,
Except it’s a bit uv a song,
An’ th’ muses han hard wark to live,
One’s bin hamper’d an powfag’d so long;
Awve tried to look cheerful an’ bowd,
An’ [ye] know [what] awve written an’ said,
But iv th’ truth mun be honestly towd,
Awve hard wark to hold up mi yed!
There’ll be some on us missin’, aw deawt,
Iv there [isn't] some help for us soon,
We’d bin jostled an’ tumbled abeawt,
Till we’re welly o’ knock’d eawt o’ tune;
Ewar Margit hoo frets an’ hoo cries,
An’ hoo sits thear wi’ th’ chilt on her knee;
An’ aw cannot blame th’ lass, for hoo tries
To be cheerful an gradely wi’ me.
Yon Yankees may think it rare fun,
Kickin’ up sich a shindy o’ th’ globe –
Confound ‘em, aw wish they’d gat done,
For they’s [weary] aawt th’ patience o’ Job!
We shall have to go help ‘em, that’s clear,
Iv they dunno get done very soon;
Iv [ewar] volunteers wur o’er there,
They’s sharpen ‘m up to some tune.
Now it’s hard for a mortal to tell
Heaw long they may plague us this road;
Iv they’d hurt nob’dy [else] but thersel,
They met fo eawt an feight till they’rn stowd,
Aw think it’s high time someb’dy spoke,
When mony are cryin’ for bread;
For there’s hundreds an theawsands o’ folk
Deawn i’ Lancashire hardly hawve fed.
Th’ big men, when they yer ewar complaint,
May treat it [as] gammon” an’ “stuff;”
An’ tell us we use to’ much pain,
But we donnut daub paint on enough.
If they think it’s noan true what we sen –
Ere they charge us wi’ tellin’ a lie,
Let ‘em look into th’ question loike men,
An’ come deawn here a [fortai’t] an’ try.