"The Wayver of Wellbrook" गीत

You gentlemen all with your hounds and your parks
You may gamble or sport till you dee.
But a quiet house nook, a good wife and a book
Is more to the likin' o' me.

Wi' me pickers and pins me wellers to t' shins
Me linderins shuttles and yeald hooks
Me treadles and sticks, me weights ropes and bricks
What a life, says the wayver of Wellbrook.

Aw care not for houses or titles or lands
Owd John's a name fitten for me.
And gimme a thatch wi' a wooden door latch
And six feet o' ground when Aw dee

Some folk like to stuff their owd wallets wi' meat
'Til they're round and as brawsen as frogs.
But me Aw'm content when Aw've paid up me rent
Wi' enough to keep up wi' me clogs.

An' some are too idle to use their own feet
An' mun cower an' stroddle i' th' lone.
But when Aw'm wheelt or carried 'twill be to get buried
And then "Dicky Up" wi' owd John.

You may turn up your noses at me an' th' owd dame
An' thrutch us like dogs again wall.
But so long as Aw con nayger Aw'll ne'er be a beggar
So Aw don't give a cuss for you all.

Then Margit turn round that hum a drum wheel
An' your shuttle fly round like a brid
And when Aw no longer con use hand or finger
Then Aw'll say while Aw could, then Aw did.