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Title: Owd Betty's Advice
Author: Bill o'th' Hoylus End [
More Titles by Bill o'th' Hoylus End]
So Mary, lass, tha'rt bahn to wed
It mornin', we young Blacksmith Ned,
An' though it maks thi mother sad,
It's like to be;
I've nowt ageean yond dacent lad,
No more ner thee.
Bud let me tell tha what ta due,
For my advise might help tha thru;
Be kind, and to thi husband true,
An' I'll be bun
Tha'll nivver hev a day ta rue
For owt that's done.
Nah, try to keep thi former knack,
An' du thi weshin' in a crack,
Bud don't be flaid to bend thi back,
Tha'll nobbut sweeat;
So try an' hev a bit o' tack,
An' du it neeat.
Be sure tha keeps fra bein' a flirt,
An' pride thysel i' bein' alert,--
An' mind ta mend thi husband's shirt,
An' keep it cleean;
It wod thi poor owd mother hurt,
If tha wur meean.
Don't kal abaht like monny a wun,
Then hev to broil, an' sweeat, an' run;
Bud alus hev thi dinner done
Withaht a mooild;
If it's nobbut meil, lass, set it on,
An' hev it boiled.
Now Mary, I've no more ta say--
Tha gets thi choice an' tak thi way;
An' if tha leets to rue, I pray,
Don't blame thi mother:
I wish yeh monny a happy day
Wi wun another.
[The end]
Bill o'th' Hoylus End's poem: Owd Betty's Advice
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