Says Pug o’ Joans o’ Haworth Brah,
Ta Rodge at Wickin Crag—
Are Nelly’s tung’s a yard too long,
And, by’t mess it can wag.

It’s hell at top o’ t’earth we me,
An’ stand it I am forst;
I’d give all t’brass at I possess,
If I could get devors’d.

Then answer’d Rodge, I hev a dodge,
Az gooid a plan az onny;
A real devorse tha’ll get of course—
It willant cost a penny.

Then tell me what it iz, says Pug,
I’m hommost brocken-hearted;
We’ll go ta Keethlah Warkhaase, lad,
Where man an woife are parted.