Happen Thine.

A poem by John Hartley

Then its O! for a wife, sich a wife as aw know!
Who's thowts an desires are pure as the snow,
Who nivver thinks virtue a reason for praise,
An who shudders when tell'd ov this world's wicked ways.

Shoo isn't a gossip, shoo keeps to her hooam,
Shoo's a welcome for friends if they happen to come;
Shoo's tidy an cleean, let yo call when yo may,
Shoo's nivver upset or put aght ov her way.

At morn when her husband sets off to his wark,
Shoo starts him off whistlin, as gay as a lark;
An at neet if he's weary he hurries straight back,
An if worried forgets all his cares in a crack.

If onny naybor is sick or distressed,
Shoe sends what shoo can an allus her best;
An if onny young fowk chonce to fall i' disgrace,
They fly straight to her and they tell her ther case.

Shoo harkens - an then in a motherly tone
Sympathises as tho they were bairns ov her own;
Shoo shows 'em ther faults, an points aght th' best way,
To return to th' reight rooad, if they've wandered astray.

Soa kindly shoo tries to set tangled things straight,
Yo'd ommost goa wrang to let her set yo reight.
Shoo helps and consoles the poor, weary an worn, -
Shoo's an angel baght wings if one ivver wor born.

Shoo can join a mild frolic if fun's to be had,
For her principal joy is to see others glad;
Shoo's a jewel, an th' chap who can call her his own,
Has noa 'cashion to hunt for th' philosopher's stooan.

If failins shoo has, they're unknown unto me, -
Shoo's as near to perfection as mortal can be; -
To know shoo's net mine, does sometimes mak me sad; -
If shoo's thine, then tha owt to be thankful, owd lad.