How about this little comic gem from Somerset

I've been a farmin' all me life worse luck for I, I say,
For rarely what I takes in hand it never seems to pay,
Me fields and gardens everywhere cost me no end for seeds,
But all that ever seems to grow be them darnation weeds.

The fly be on yon turmots, the jumpers on the hops,
The rain has spoilt me hay and corn I shan't get half me crops.
For what I sells is always cheap and what I buys 'tis dear,
I can't help feeling nowadays that farmin's precious queer.

When I plants them taters, they always gets the blight,
Me pigs and poultry eat seed up it never turns out right.
Me best old horse has fallen down and broken both his knees,
And now me sheep has been and got the foot in mouth disease.

The fly be on yon turmots, the jumpers on the hops,
The rain has spoilt me hay and corn I shan't get half me crops.
For what I sells is always cheap and what I buys 'tis dear,
I can't help feeling nowadays that farmin's precious queer.

I've got a wife outside me chaps her tempers never cool,
Says I to her, "Oh do shut up you aggravating old fool."
I knows 'tis wrong to call her that her puddings you can't beat 'em,
But her yearly adds to a large score of boys and girls to eat 'em.

The fly be on yon turmots, the jumpers on the hops,
The rain has spoilt me hay and corn I shan't get half me crops.
For what I sells is always cheap and what I buys 'tis dear,
I can't help feeling nowadays that farmin's precious queer.

HTML line breaks added --JoeClone, 2-Oct-01.