Come, aw'll tak thee to thi mother; Shoo's moor used to sich nor me: Hands like mine worn't made to bother Wi sich ginger-breead as thee. Innocent an' helpless craytur, All soa pure an' undefiled! If ther's ought belangs to heaven Lives o'th' eearth, it is a child. An its hard to think, 'at some day, If tha'rt spared to weather throo, 'At tha'll be a man, an' someway Have to feight life's battles too. Kings an' Queens, an' lords an' ladies, Once wor nowt noa moor to see; An' th' warst wretch 'at hung o'th' gallows, Once wor born as pure as thee. An' what tha at last may come to, God aboon us all can tell; But aw hope 'at tha'll be lucky, Even tho aw fail mysel. Do aw ooin thee? its a pity! Hush! nah prathi dunnot freat! Goa an' snoozle to thi titty Tha'rt too young for trouble yet. Babby Burds Aw wander'd aght one summer's morn, Across a meadow newly shorn; Th' sun wor shinin' breet and clear, An' fragrant scents rose up i'th' air, An' all wor still. When, as my steps wor idly rovin, Aw coom upon a seet soa lovin! It fill'd mi heart wi' tender feelin, As daan aw sank beside it, kneelin O'th' edge o'th' hill. It wor a little skylark's nest, An' two young babby burds, undrest, Wor gapin wi' ther beaks soa wide, Callin' for mammy to provide Ther mornin's meal; An' high aboon ther little hooam, Th' saand o' daddy's warblin coom, Ringin' soa sweetly o' mi ear, Like breathins thro' a purer sphere, He sang soa weel. Ther mammy, a few yards away, Wor hoppin' on a bit o' hay, Too feard to come, too bold to flee; An' watchin me wi' troubled e'e, Shoo seem'd to say: "Dooant touch my bonny babs, young man! Ther daddy does the best he can To cheer yo with his sweetest song; An' thoase 'll sing as weel, ere long, Soa let 'em stay." "Tha needn't think aw'd do 'em harm-- Come shelter 'em and keep 'em warm! For aw've a little nest misel, An' two young babs, aw'm praad to tell, 'At's precious too; An' they've a mammy watching thear, 'At howds them little ens as dear, An' dearer still, if that can be, Nor what thease youngens are to thee, Soa come,--nah do! "A'a well!--tha'rt shy, tha hops away,-- Tha doesn't trust a word aw say; Tha thinks aw'm here to rob an' plunder, An' aw confess aw dunnot wonder-- But tha's noa need; Aw'll leave yo to yorsels,--gooid bye! For nah aw see yor daddy's nigh; He's dropt that strain soa sweet and strong; He loves yo better nor his song-- He does indeed." Aw walk'd away, and sooin mi ear Caught up the saand o' warblin clear; Thinks aw, they're happy once agean; Aw'm glad aw didn't prove so mean To rob that nest; For they're contented wi ther lot, Nor envied me mi little cot; An' in this world, as we goa throo, It is'nt mich gooid we can do, An' do awr best.