Have yo seen awr Mary's bonnet?
It's a stunner, - noa mistak!
Ther's a bunch o' rooasies on it,
An a feather daan her back.
Yollo ribbons an fine laces,
An a cock-a-doodle-doo,
An raand her bonny face is
A string o' pooasies blue.
When shoo went to church last Sundy,
Th' parson could'nt find his text;
An fat old Mistress Grundy
Sed, "A'a, Mary! pray what next!"
Th' lads wink'd at one another, -
Th' lasses snikered i' ther glee,
An th' whooal o'th' congregation
Had her bonnet i' ther ee.
Sooin th' singers started singin,
But they braik daan one bi one,
For th' hymn wor on "The flowers
Of fifty summers gone."
But when they saw awr Mary,
They made a mullock on it,
For they thowt 'at all them flaars
Had been put on Mary's bonnet.
Then th' parson sed mooast kindly,
"Ther wor noa offence intended;
But flaar shows wor aght o' place,
I'th' church whear saints attended.
An if his errin sister wished
To find her way to glory;
Shoo should'nt carry on her heead,
A whooal consarvatory."
Nah, Mary is'nt short o' pluck, -
Shoo jumpt up in a minnit,
Shoo lukt as if shoo'd swollo th' church,
An ivverybody in it.
"Parson," shoo sed, "yor heead is bare, -
Nowt in it an nowt on it;
Suppooas yo put some flaars thear,
Like theas 'at's in my bonnet."