A Yola Zong

Yerstey w'had a baree, gist ing oor hoane,
Aar gentrize ware bibbern, aamzil cou no stoane.
Yith Muzleare had ba hole, t'was by mee Tommeen,
At by mizluck was ee-pit t'drive in.

Joud an moud vrem earchee ete was ee Lough.
Zitch vaperreen, an shimmereen, fan ee-daf ee aar scoth!
Zitch blakeen, an blayeen, fan ee ball was ee-drowe!
Chote well aar aim was t'yie ouz n'eer a blowe.

Mot w'all aar boust, hi soon was ee-teight
At aar errone was var ameing 'ar 'ngish ee-height.
Zitch vezzeen, tarvizzeen, 'tell than w'ne'er zey.
Nore zichel ne'er well, nowe, nore ne'er mey.

Many a bra draught by Tommeen was ee-maate;
Ee cowlee-man, fausteen, zey well 'twas ee- naate.
Yith w'had any Ihuck, oor naame wode b'zung,
Vrem Choure here aloghe up to Cargun.

Than came ee shullereen, ee teap an corkite;
Hi kinket an kilt, ee vewe aam 'twode snite.
Zim dellen harnothès w'aar nize ee reed cley:
More trolleen, an yalpeen, an moulteen away.

T' brek up ee bathès h' had na poustee;
Tommeen was lous, an zo was a baree.
Oore hart cam' t'oore mouth, an zo w' all ee-green
Th' hap, an ee ferde, an ee crie, was Tommeen