de i' t' land:
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.(2)

Aroond her leg it has been bun',
I wish I'd bun' it.
A trimmer limb could nut be fun':
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.

May ivvery yan at lifts his glass
To this faane band
Uphod(3) he gans wi' t' best-like lass:
Sae sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.

Frae wrist to wrist this band we pass,
As han' clasps han';
I' turn we through it draw each glass:
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.

An' here's tiv her at fast(4) did weer
A braadal band
Bun' roond her leg; gie her a cheer:
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.

An' here's to Venus; let us beg
A boon at she
Will gie each braade a pattern leg:
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it do on your wizan.

1 From Mr. Richard Blakeborough's "Old Songs of the Dales,"
appended to his T' Hunt o' Yatton Brigg, p. 57, 2nd edition..
2 Throat. 3 Uphold, maintain. 4 First.

Nance and Tom

Traditional

From Mr. R. Blakeborough's "Old Songs of the Dales,"
appended to his T' Hunt o' Yatton Brigg, p. 44, 2nd edition.

I' t' merry taame o' harvestin'
Lang sen,(1) aye well a day!
Oar Nancy, t' bonniest lass i' t' field
Had varra laal to say.
An' Tom whea follow'd, follow'd her,
An' neigh as dumb were he,
An' thof he wark'd some wiv his hands
He harder wark'd his ee.

For Nan were buxom, Nan were fair,
Her lilt were leet an' free;
An' Tom could hardlins hod(2) his wits,
He couldn't hod his ee
Frae Nancy's face; an' her breet smaale
Made Tom's heart lowp(3) an' thump;
Whal Nancy awn'd t' fost kiss he gav,
Her stays mun git a bump

Bud o' ya neet, Tom set her yam,
" Noo, Nance,"tell'd he," I've gitten
A cauvin' coo, an' twea fat pigs;
Wi' thy fair charms I'm smitten.
Thoo knaws I have a theak,(4) my lass,
An' gear, baith gert an' small,
I've fotty pund ligg'd by at yam,
Tak me, lass, tak it all."

Nance hing'd her heead an' dropp'd her een,
An' then she sighed, "Ah, dear!
Noo hod thy whisht,(5) thoo's tell'd t' same tale
To monny a maid, I fear."
Bud T