The Day That We Got Married

                      Teun-"Robin Tamsin's Smiddy"


                      The Tenth o' Mairch wes bleak an' cawd,
                      The day byeth wet an' dreary,
                      When like an honest-meaning lad,
                      A went te wed me dreary;
                      Drest up quite gay, we hied away,
                      At hyem we little tarried,--
                      The ring wes bowt:--an' wed for nowt,
                      The day the Prince got married.

                      Rosettes wes stuck upon each breest,
                      An' merry bells war ringin,
                      When swaggrin throo the crooded streets,
                      Gud korus we war singin;
                      Processions grand, wi' splendid bands
                      Alang wi' cheers we hurried,
                      An' let foaks knaw, wi' shoot an' craw,
                      That Mall an' me got married.

                      At last we a' arrived at hyem,
                      Te tyest the weddin dinner,
                      Aw's sure we polished ivry byen,
                      An' myed the pot a spinner;
                      For roond it went,--still not content,
                      The drinking moshin's carried,
                      Wi' dance an' sang, te music strang,
                      The day that we got married.

                      When neet set in, we went te see
                      The grand illuminashuns,
                      When bonny seets lit up wi' glee
                      Wor eyes wi' queer sensashuns'
                      For a' the streets wes fair aleet,
                      Tho i' the crood nigh worried,
                      The gas se breet myed blithe the neet
                      The Prince an' me got married.

                      They hyem agyen we bent wor way,
                      Wet throo wi' rain an' scrushin,
                      Te pass the crood wes owt but play,
                      Aw's still sair yit wi' pushin;
                      At hyem at last, --the time we past,
                      Wi' jokes byeth glen an' aprried,
                      Ne royal prince, afore or since,
                      Had fun like us, when married.

                      Aw wish the Prince had just been there,
                      Te see the aud wives dancin;
                      An' lang fat Mat sat i' the chair,
                      I' fun te tyek his chance in,
                      For lips we smackt an' jaws wes crackt,
                      The lads the lasses flurried,
                      The Rifle Ball we myed sing small,
                      The neet that we got married.

                      Six munths o' time had scarcely gyen,
                      The doctor myed us wince, man,
                      When he said-Myour Mally's got a bairn,
                      Says he ye've lickt the Prince man!
                      The bairn's bit claes were ready tee,
                      Aw blist the day we married;-
                      Withoot a wife-fareweel te life,
                      Ye might as weel be barried.

                      -Joe Wilson