Then let us do as little wrong To ony as we pass along, An' never seek a joy to gain At's purchased wi another's pain, It isn't reet. Aw shall goa hooam wi' leeter heart, To mend awr Johnny's little cart: (He allus finds me wark enough To piecen up his brocken stuff, For every neet.) An' Sally--a'a! if yo could see her! When aw sit daan to get mi teah, Shoo puts her dolly o' mi knee, An' maks me sing it "Hush a bee," I'th' rocking chear; Then begs some sugar for it too; What it can't ait shoo tries to do; An' turnin up her cunnin e'e,, Shoo rubs th' doll maath, an says, "yo see, It gets its share.", Sometimes aw'm rayther cross? aw fear! Then starts a little tremblin tear, 'At, like a drop o' glitt'rin dew Swimmin within a wild flaar blue, Falls fro ther e'e; But as the sun in April shaars Revives the little droopin flaars, A kind word brings ther sweet smile back: Aw raylee think mi brain ud crack If they'd ta dee. Then if aw love my bairns soa weel, May net a skylark's bosom feel As mich consarn for th' little things 'At snooze i'th' shelter which her wings Soa weel affoards? If fowk wod nobbut bear i' mind How mich is gained by bein' kind, Ther's fewer breasts wi' grief ud swell, An' fewer fowk ud thoughtless mell Even o'th' burds. Wayvin Mewsic Ther's mewsic i'th' shuttle, i'th' loom, an i'th frame, Ther's melody mingled i'th' noise, For th' active ther's praises, for th' idle ther's blame, If they'd hearken to th' saand of its voice; An' when flaggin a bit, ha refreshin to feel As yo pause an luk raand on the throng, At the clank o' the tappet, the hum o' the wheel, Sing this plain unmistakable song:-- Nick a ting, nock a ting; Wages keep pocketing; Workin for little is better nor laiking; Twist an' twine, reel an' wind; Keep a contented mind; Troubles are oft ov a body's own making. To see workin fowk wi' a smile o' ther face As they labor thear day after day; An' hear 'th women's voices float sweetly throo 'th place, As they join i' some favorite lay; It saands amang th' din, as the violet seems 'At peeps aght th' green dockens among, An' spreading a charm over th' rest by its means, Thus it blends i' that steady old song; Nick a ting, nock a ting; Wages keep pocketing; Workin for little is better nor laiking; Twist an' twine, reel an' wind; Keep a contented mind; Troubles are oft ov a body's own making. An' then see what lessons are laid out anent us, As pick after pick follows time after time, An' warns us tho' silent, to let nowt prevent us From strivin by little endeavours to climb; Th' world's made o' trifles! its dust forms a mountain! Then niver despair as you're trudgin along; If troubles will come an' yor spirits dishearten, Yo'll find ther's relief i' that steady old song; Nick a ting, nock a ting; Wages keep pocketing; Working for little is better nor laiking; Twist an' twine, reel an' wind; Keep a contented mind; Troubles are oft ov a body's own making.