et,
When tha shov'd her into th' street.

Ther wor once a "Man," mich greater
Nor thisen wi' all thi brass;
Him, awr blessed Mediator,--
Wod He scorn that little lass?
Noa, He called 'em, an He blessed 'em,
An His hands divine caress'd 'em.

Goa thi ways! an if tha bears net
Some regret for what tha's done,
If tha con pass on, an cares net
For that sufferin little one;
Then ha'ivver poor shoo be,
Yet shoo's rich compared wi' thee.

Oh! 'at this breet gold should blind us,
To awr duties here below!
For we're forced to leeav behind us
All awr pomp, an all awr show;
Why then should we slight another?
Shoo's thi sister, unkind brother.

Another Babby.

Another!--well, my bonny lad,
Aw wodn't send thee back;
Altho' we thowt we hadn't raam,
Tha's fun some in a crack.

It maks me feel as pleased as punch
To see thi pratty face;
Ther's net another child i'th' bunch
Moor welcome to a place.

Aw'st ha to fit a peark for thee,
I' some nook o' mi cage;
But if another comes, raylee!
Aw'st want a bigger wage.

But aw'm noan feard tha'll ha to want--
We'll try to pool thee throo,
For Him who has mi laddie sent,
He'll send his baggin too.

He hears the little sparrows chirp,
An answers th' raven's call;
He'll nivver see one want for owt,
'At's worth aboon 'em all.

But if one on us mun goa short,
(Altho' it's hard to pine,)
Thy little belly shall be fill'd
Whativver comes o' mine.

A chap con nobbut do his best,
An that aw'll do for thee,
Leavin to providence all th' rest,
An we'st get help'd, tha'll see.

An if thi lot's as bright an fair
As aw could wish it, lad,
Tha'll come in for a better share
Nor ivver blessed thi dad.

Aw think aw'st net ha lived for nowt,
If, when deeath comes, aw find
Aw leeav some virtuous lasses
An some honest lads behind.

An tho' noa coat ov arms may grace
For me, a sculptor'd stooan,
Aw hooap to leeav a noble race,
Wi' arms o' flesh an booan.

Then cheer up, lad, tho' things luk black,
Wi' health, we'll persevere,
An try to find a brighter track--
We'll conquer, nivver fear!

An may God shield thee wi' his wing,
Along life's stormy way,
An keep thi heart as free throo sin,
As what it is to-day.

To a Roadside Flower.

Tha bonny little pooasy! aw'm inclined
To tak thee wi' me:
But yet aw think if tha could spaik thi mind,
Tha'd ne'er forgie