Classic Poem

I LIVES in a neat little cottage;
I rents me a nice little farm;
On Sundays I dresses me handsome;
On Mondays I dresses me warm.

I goes to the sign of the Anchor;
I sits myself quietly down,
To wait till the lads are all ready,
For we has a club in the town.

O lozes o' me! we are merry,
I only but wish ye could hear;
Dick Spriggins he acts sae like players,
Ye niver heard nothing sae queer.

And first he comes in for King Richard,
And stamps with his fit on the ground;
He wad part with his kingdom for horses;
O lozes o' me! what a sound!

And then he comes in for young Roma,
And spreads out his little black fist;
I's just fit to drop whilst he's talking;
Ye niver seed yen sae distrest.

O lozes o' me! it is moving,—
I hates for to hear a man cry;
And then he looks up at a window,
To see if lal Juliet be by.

And then he lets wit 'at she's talking,
And speaks 'at ye hardly can hear;
But I think she caws out on Squire Roma,
And owther says Hinney or Dear.

Then up wi' Dick Spriggins for ever!
May he live a' the days of his life;
May his bairns be as honest as he's been,
And may he ay maister his wife!