John Hartley

1839-1917 / England

Wayvin Mewsic

Ther's mewsic i'th' shuttle, i'th' loom, an i'th frame,
Ther's melody mingled i'th' noise,
For th' active ther's praises, for th' idle ther's blame,
If they'd hearken to th' saand of its voice;
An' when flaggin a bit, ha refreshin to feel
As yo pause an luk raand on the throng,
At the clank o' the tappet, the hum o' the wheel,
Sing this plain unmistakable song:--
Nick a ting, nock a ting;
Wages keep pocketing;
Workin for little is better nor laiking;
Twist an' twine, reel an' wind;
Keep a contented mind;
Troubles are oft ov a body's own making.

To see workin fowk wi' a smile o' ther face
As they labor thear day after day;
An' hear 'th women's voices float sweetly throo 'th place,
As they join i' some favorite lay;
It saands amang th' din, as the violet seems
'At peeps aght th' green dockens among,
An' spreading a charm over th' rest by its means,
Thus it blends i' that steady old song;
Nick a ting, nock a ting;
Wages keep pocketing;
Workin for little is better nor laiking;
Twist an' twine, reel an' wind;
Keep a contented mind;
Troubles are oft ov a body's own making.

An' then see what lessons are laid out anent us,
As pick after pick follows time after time,
An' warns us tho' silent, to let nowt prevent us
From strivin by little endeavours to climb;
Th' world's made o' trifles! its dust forms a mountain!
Then niver despair as you're trudgin along;
If troubles will come an' yor spirits dishearten,
Yo'll find ther's relief i' that steady old song;
Nick a ting, nock a ting;
Wages keep pocketing;
Working for little is better nor laiking;
Twist an' twine, reel an' wind;
Keep a contented mind;
Troubles are oft ov a body's own making.

Life's warp comes throo Heaven, th' weft's fun bi us sen;
To finish a piece we're compell'd to ha booath.
Th' warp's reight, but if th' weft should be faulty--ha then?
Noa wayver i' th' world can produce a gooid clooath;
Then let us endeavour, bi working and striving,
To finish awr piece soa's noa fault can be fun;
An' then i' return for awr pains an contriving,
Th' takker in 'll reward us an' whisper' well done.'
Clink a clank, clink a clank,
Workin withaat a thank,
May be awr fortun--if soa never mind it!
Striving to do awr best,
We shall be reight at last,
If we lack comfort nah, then shall we find it.
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