The Settle an' the Girt Wood Vire

Ah! naighbour John, since I an' youWer youngsters, ev'ry thing is new.My father's vires wer all o' logsO' cleft-wood, down upon the dogsBelow our clavy, high, an' brodeEnough to teaeke a cart an' lwoad,Where big an' little all zot downAt bwoth zides, an' bevore, all roun'.An' when I zot among em, ICould zee all up ageaen the skyDrough chimney, where our vo'k did hitchThe zalt-box an' the beaecon-vlitch,An' watch the smoke on out o' vier,All up an' out o' tun, an' higher.An' there wer beaecon up on rack,An' pleaetes an' dishes on the tack;An' roun' the walls wer heaerbs a-stowedIn peaepern bags, an' blathers blowed.An' just above the clavy-bwoardWer father's spurs, an' gun, an' sword;An' there wer then, our girtest pride,The settle by the vier zide.Ah! gi'e me, if I wer a squier,The settle an' the girt wood vier.

But they've a-wall'd up now wi' bricksThe vier pleaece vor dogs an' sticks,An' only left a little holeTo teaeke a little greaete o' coal,So small that only twos or dreesCan jist push in an' warm their knees.An' then the carpets they do use,B[=e]n't fit to tread wi' ouer shoes;An' chairs an' couches be so neat,You mussen teaeke em vor a seat:They be so fine, that vo'k mus' pleaeceAll over em an' outer ceaese,An' then the cover, when 'tis on,Is still too fine to loll upon.Ah! gi'e me, if I wer a squier,The settle an' the girt wood vier.

Carpets, indeed! You coulden hurtThe stwone-vloor wi' a little dirt;Vor what wer brought in doors by men,The women soon mopp'd out ageaen.Zoo we did come vrom muck an' mire,An' walk in straight avore the vier;But now, a man's a-kept at doorAt work a pirty while, avoreHe's screaep'd an' rubb'd, an' cleaen and fitTo goo in where his wife do zit.An' then if he should have a whiffIn there, 'twould only breed a miff:He c[=a]nt smoke there, vor smoke woon't goo'Ithin the footy little flue.Ah! gi'e me, if I wer a squier,The settle an' the girt wood vier.