We Do’set, though we mid be hwomely,
Be’nt asheäm’d to own our pleäce;
An’ we’ve zome women not uncomely;
Nor asheäm’d to show their feäce:
We’ve a meäd or two wo’th mowèn,
We’ve an ox or two we’th showèn,
In the village,
At the tillage,
Come along an’ you shall vind
That Do’set men don’t sheäme their kind.
Friend an’ wife,
Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers,
Happy, happy, be their life!
Vor Do’set dear,
Then gi’e woone cheer;
D’ye hear? woone cheer!
If you in Do’set be a-roamèn,
An’ ha’ business at a farm,
Then woont ye zee your eäle a-foamèn!
Or your cider down to warm?
Woont ye have brown bread a-put ye,
An’ some vinny cheese a-cut ye?
Butter?–rolls o’t!
Cream?–why bowls o’t!
Woont ye have, in short, your vill,
A-gi’ed wi’ a right good will?
Friend an’ wife,
Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers.
Happy, happy, be their life!
Vor Do’set dear,
Then gi’e woone cheer;
D’ye hear? woone cheer!
An’ woont ye have vor ev’ry shillèn,
Shillèn’s wo’th at any shop,
Though Do’set chaps be up to zellèn,
An’ can meäke a tidy swop?
Use em well, they’ll use you better;
In good turns they woont be debtor.
An’ so comely,
An’ so hwomely,
Be the maïdens, if your son
Took woone o’m, then you’d cry “Well done!”
Friend an’ wife,
Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers,
Happy, happy, be their life!
Vor Do’set dear,
Then gi’e woone cheer;
D’ye hear? woone cheer!
If you do zee our good men travel,
Down a-voot, or on their meäres,
Along the windèn leänes o’ gravel,
To the markets or the feäirs,–
Though their ho’ses cwoats be ragged,
Though the men be muddy-laggèd,
Be they roughish,
Be they gruffish,
They be sound, an’ they will stand
By what is right wi’ heart an’ hand.
Friend an’ wife,
Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers,
Happy, happy, be their life!
Vor Do’set dear,
Then gi’e woone cheer;
D’ye hear? woone cheer!
—————
The End
And that’s the End of the Poem
© Poetry Monster, 2021.
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