It's toime for me to leove mi wark,
An' wesh an' dress misel;
Becose, toneet, at th'edge o' dark,
Aw meet wi Rosy Bell.
When leovin' th'lass o' Sunday neet,
Aw took her hont i' mine,
Aw said, aw'd go iv o wur reet,
An' th'weather middlin' fine.
We're rare an' nicely matched, us two;
That's plain enough to see;
For nob'dy could mak' moor ado
Than Rosy does o' me.
We allus meet abeawt one Place,
At th'side o' th'garden wo;
Hoo grins an' laughs all o'er her face,
Aw grin an' laugh an' o !
Her mother looked as shy as owt
Th'first neet aw went i' th'heawse;
Aw dursn't speak, nor cough, nor nowt,
But ceawer't theer like a meawse.
Aw think hoo seed what th'visit meant,
Before aw cooam away;
For, do yo know, th'next time aw went,
Hoo axed mi to mi tay !
An' neaw aw'm just as welcome theer,
As ony lad i' th'teawn;
They allus reach me th'two-arm cheer,
An' tell me t' sit me deawn.
Th'owd chap's a horse worth twenty peawnd,
Besides a lot o' ceaws;
An' a bit o' rare good pasture greawnd
Wheer th'sheep an' cattle breawse.
Neaw, dunno think aw'm after th'brass,
For aw wouldn't thank for th'spot,
Wi' th'pigs, an' th' ceaws, an' o he has,
Unless aw'd her i' th'lot.
But yonder Rosy comes, aw see,
Hoo's iust shut th'garden gate;
An' neaw hoo's lookin' eawt for me,
So aw musn't let her wait.
Samuel Laycock was born in Marsden West Yorkshire the son of a weaver. He moved to Stalybridge aged 9 and in later life to Blackpool for health reasons, where he died in 1893.