Cash V. Cupid.

A poem by John Hartley

Aw dooat on a lass wi' a bonny face,
Wi' a twinkle ov fun in her ee; -
An aw like a lass 'at's some style an grace,
An aw'm fond o' one winnin an shy.
An ther's one 'at's a lot o' curly hair,
An a temptinly dimpled chin,
An one 'at's sedate an cold tho' fair,
But shoo wod'nt be easy to win.

Ther's one 'at's a smile ivvery time we meet,
An ther's one 'at seems allus sad;
Yet ther's sum mat abaat 'em all seems sweet, -
Just a sum mat aw wish aw had.
But somha aw connot mak up mi mind,
Which one to seek for a wife;
An its wise to be careful if love is blind,
For a weddin oft lasts for a life.

Ther's one 'at has nawther beauty nor wit, -
Just a plain lukkin, sensible lass;
But shoo's one thing 'at adds to her vally a bit, -
An that is 'at shoo's plenty o' brass.
An beauty will fade an een will grow dim,
Ther's noa lovin care can help that;
An th' smartest young woman, tho' stylish an slim,
May i' time grow booath clumsy an fat.

Soa aw think aw shall let thowts o' beauty slide by,
For a workin chap must be a crank,
'At sees mooar in a dimple or twinklin eye,
Nor in a snug sum in a bank.
Some may say ther's noa love in a weddin like this,
An its nowt but her brass 'at aw want,
Well, maybe they can live on a smile or a kiss,
If they can, - why, they may, - but aw cant.