aerden, mwore dead than alive,
In a coop, or a-tied by the lag.
Vor to catch at land, Thomas, an' snatch at land,
Now is the plan;
Meaeke money wherever you can.

The childern wull soon have noo pleaece
Vor to play in, an' if they do grow,
They wull have a thin musheroom feaece,
Wi' their bodies so sumple as dough.
But a man is a-meaede ov a child,
An' his limbs do grow worksome by play;
An' if the young child's little body's a-spweil'd,
Why, the man's wull the sooner decay.
But wealth is wo'th now mwore than health is wo'th;
Let it all goo,
If't 'ull bring but a sov'ren or two.

Vor to breed the young fox or the heaere,
We can gi'e up whole eaecres o' ground,
But the greens be a-grudg'd, vor to rear
Our young childern up healthy an' sound,
Why, there woont be a-left the next age
A green spot where their veet can goo free;
An' the goocoo wull soon be committed to cage
Vor a trespass in zomebody's tree.
Vor 'tis locken up, Thomas, an' blocken up,
Stranger or brother,
Men mussen come nigh woone another.

Woone day I went in at a geaete,
Wi' my child, where an echo did sound,
An' the owner come up, an' did reaete
Me as if I would car off his ground.
But his vield an' the grass wer a-let,
An' the damage that he could a-took
Wer at mwost that the while I did open the geaete
I did rub roun' the eye on the hook.
But 'tis dreven out, Thomas, an' heven out.
Trample noo grounds,
Unless you be after the hounds.

Ah! the Squier o' Culver-dell Hall
Wer as diff'rent as light is vrom dark,
Wi' zome vo'k that, as evenen did vall,
Had a-broke drough long grass in his park;
Vor he went, wi' a smile, vor to meet
Wi' the trespassers while they did pass,
An' he zaid, "I do fear you'll catch cwold in your veet,
You've a-walk'd drough so much o' my grass."
His mild words, Thomas, cut em like swords, Thomas,
Newly a-whet,
An' went vurder wi' them than a dreat.

THE RAILROAD.

I took a flight, awhile agoo,
Along the rails, a stage or two,
An' while the heavy wheels did spin
An' rottle, wi' a deafnen din,
In clouds o' steam, the zweepen train
Did shoot along the hill-bound plain,
As sheaedes o' birds in flight, do pass
Below em on the zunny grass.
An' as I zot, an' look'd abrode
On leaenen land an' winden road,
The ground a-spread