YE loit'ring minnits faster flee,

Ye're all ower slaw behawf for me,

That wait impatient for the moornin';

To-moorn's the lang, lang wish'd for fair,

Ah'll try te shine the fooremust there,

Mysen i' finest cleeas adoornin',

Te grace the day.

Ah'll put mah best white stockings on,

An' pair o' new cawf-leather shoon,

My cleean-wesh'd goon o' printed cotton;

Aboot my neck a muslin shawl,

A new silk hankercher ower all,

Wi' sike a careless air ah'll put on,

Ah'll shine that day.

My partner Ned, ah knaw, thinks he,

"He'll mak' his sen secure o' me,"

He's ofens sed he'd treeat me rarely;

Bud ah sal think ov other fun,

Ah'll aim for sum rich farmer's son,

An' cheeat our simple Neddy fairly,

Sea sly that day.

Why mud ah nut succeed as weel,

An' get a man full oot genteel,

As awd John Darby's dowghter Nelly;

Ah think mysen as good as she,

She can't mak' cheese or spin like me,

That's mare 'an beauty, let me tell ye,

On onny day.

Then hey! for spoorts an' puppy shows,

An' temptin' spice-stalls, rang'd i' rows,

An' danglin' dolls, by t' necks all hangin',

An' thoosand other pratty seeghts,

An' lasses, trail'd alang the streets,

Wi' lads, te t' yal-house gangin',

Te drink that day.

Let's leeak at t' winder,—ah can see 't,

It seeams as tho' 'twas growin' leeght,

The cloods wi' early rays adoornin',

Ye loit'ring minnits faster flee,

Ye're all ower slaw' behawf for me

'At wait impatient for the moornin',

O' sike a day.