But they've a-wall'd up now wi' bricks The vier pleäce vor dogs an' sticks, An' only left a little hole To teäke a little greäte o' coal, So small that only twos or drees Can jist push in an' warm their knees. An' then the carpets they do use, B[=e]n't fit to tread wi' ouer shoes; An' chairs an' couches be so neat, You mussen teäke em vor a seat: They be so fine, that vo'k mus' pleäce All over em an' outer ceäse, An' then the cover, when 'tis on, Is still too fine to loll upon. Ah! gi'e me, if I wer a squier, The settle an' the girt wood vier.
Carpets, indeed! You coulden hurt The stwone-vloor wi' a little dirt; Vor what wer brought in doors by men, The women soon mopp'd out ageän. Zoo we did come vrom muck an' mire, An' walk in straïght avore the vier; But now, a man's a-kept at door At work a pirty while, avore He's screäp'd an' rubb'd, an' cleän and fit To goo in where his wife do zit. An' then if he should have a whiff In there, 'twould only breed a miff: He c[=a]nt smoke there, vor smoke woon't goo 'Ithin the footy little flue. Ah! gi'e me, if I wer a squier, The settle an' the girt wood vier.
O, I be a carter, wi' my whip A-smackèn loud, as by my zide, Up over hill, an' down the dip, The heavy lwoad do slowly ride.
An' I do haul in all the crops, An' I do bring in vuzz vrom down; An' I do goo vor wood to copse, An' car the corn an' straw to town.
An' I do goo vor lime, an' bring Hwome cider wi' my sleek-heäir'd team, An' smack my limber whip an' zing, While all their bells do gaïly cheeme.
An' I do always know the pleäce To gi'e the hosses breath, or drug; An' ev'ry hoss do know my feäce, An' mind my '_mether ho_! an' _whug_!
An' merry haÿ-meäkers do ride Vrom vield in zummer wi' their prongs, In my blue waggon, zide by zide Upon the reäves, a-zingèn zongs.
An' when the vrost do catch the stream, An' oves wi' icicles be hung, My pantèn hosses' breath do steam In white-grass'd vields, a-haulèn dung.
An' mine's the waggon fit vor lwoads, An' mine be lwoads to cut a rout; An' mine's a team, in routy rwoads, To pull a lwoaded waggon out.
A zull is nothèn when do come Behind their lags; an' they do teäke A roller as they would a drum, An' harrow as they would a reäke.
O! I be a carter, wi' my whip A-smackèn loud, as by my zide, Up over hill, an' down the dip, The heavy lwoad do slowly ride.