LAST night the merry farmers’ sons,

Vrom biggest down to leäst, min, mate

Gi'ed in the work of all their guns, gave

An’ had their sparrow feäst, min.

An’ who vor woone good merry soul one

Should goo to sheäre their me'th, min, mirth

But Gammon Gaÿ, a chap so droll,

He'd meäke ye laugh to death, min.

Vor heads o’ sparrows they've a-shot

They'll have a prize in cwein, min, coin

That is, if they can meäke their scot, tally

Or else they'll paÿ a fine, min.

An’ all the money they can teäke

's a-gather'd up there-right, min,

An’ spent in meat an’ drink, to meäke

A supper vor the night, min.

Zoo when they took away the cloth, so

In middle of their din, min,

An’ cups o’ eäle begun to froth, ale

Below their merry chin, min,

An’ when the zong, by turn or chaïce,

Went roun’ vrom tongue to tongue, min,

Then Gammon pitch'd his merry vaïce,

An’ here's the zong he zung, min.

Zong.

If you'll but let your clackers rest tongues

Vrom jabberèn an’ hootèn,

I'll teäke my turn, an’ do my best,

To zing o’ sparrow shootèn.

Since every woone mus’ pitch his key, one

An’ zing a zong, in coo'se, lads, in turn

Why sparrow heads shall be to-day

The heads o’ my discoo'se, lads. discourse

We'll zend abroad our viery haïl out, fiery

Till ev'ry foe's a-vled, lads, fled

An’ though the rogues mid all turn taïl, may

We'll quickly show their head, lads.

In corn, or out on oben ground,

In bush, or up in tree, lads,

If we don't kill em, I'll be bound,

We'll meäke their veathers vlee, lads. fly

Zoo let the belted spwortsmen brag so

When they've a-won a neäme, so's, souls (friends)

That they do vind, or they do bag,

Zoo many head o’ geäme, so's:

Vor when our cwein is woonce a-won, coin, once

By heads o’ sundry sizes,

Why, who can slight what we've a-done?

We've all a-won head prizes. first prizes

Then teäke a drap vor harmless fun,

But not enough to quarrel;

Though where a man do like the gun,

He can't but need the barrel.