The Pork-Shop Lass.
Air-"Bellle of Baltimore."

Ye may tawk aboot yor barmaids,
An' lanlord's dowters, tee,
But they're a matter o' fancy
Te sum, but not te me;
An' thor's some that like the sarvints,
Dressmakers, tee, as weel,
But the whole o' thor affecshun's
Ne chance wi' what aw feel.

Korus

Oh my, myest ivery fella
Tyeks a' fance te maw Bella,
Thor like te de-for she's forst-class,
But aw's the one for the pork-shop lass!

Like a queen behint the counter,
She'll stand an' calmly sarve,
An' myek such-clivor sanwitches,
She's just the one te carve
A roond o' beef or leg o' pork,
She cuts se neat an' clean,
Her eyes thor like the knife an' fork,
They've cut me hear se keen.

When the gas is brightly burnin,
It lets up a' the street,
An' the foaks stand at the window,
Admirin pig's meat;
But oh, ma Bella's best of a'
The greet attracshuns there,
For when aw see her fat reed fyece,
She's a' me joy an' care.

Byeth sassidge, pies, an' saveloys,
Sink law I' maw esteem,
Black puddins an' white puddins, tee,
Aw eat them iv a dream;
Pig's tripe an' fry, an' potted heed,
May stand the public test,
But i' the shop,-an' aw'm a judge,
The pork-shop lass's best.

-Joe Wilson