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A YOLA ZONG. Tune—ColUn and Thehe. 



FADE tell thee zo lournagh, co Jone, zo knaggee. 

 Th' weitheft all curcagh, wafur, an cornee. 

 Lidge w'ous ana milagh, tis gay an louthee, 

 Huck nigher, y'art fcudden, fartoo zo hachee. 



Well, gofp, c'huU be zeid, mot thee fartoo, an fa'dc 

 Ha deight ouz var gabble, tell ee Zin go t'glade 

 Ch'am a ftouk, an a donel ; wou'U leigh out ee dey 

 Th' valler w'fpeen here, tli' lafs i Chourch-hey. 



Yerftey w'had a baree, gift ing our hone 

 Are gentrize ware bibbern, amezill, cou no ftone. 

 Yith Muzlere had ba hole, tVas me Tonimeen, 

 At by mizluck was i pit t'drive in. 



Joud an moud, vrem earchee ete, was i Lough 

 Zitch vaperren, an fliimmereen, fan ee daff i tha'r fcoth 

 Zitch blakeen, an blayeen, fan ee ball was ee drowe 

 Chote well 'ar aim was t'yie ouz n'eer a blowe. 



Mot w'all 'ar bouft, hi foon was ee teight 

 At 'ar errone was var amelng 'ar 'ngifli i height 

 Zitch vezzen, tarvizzen 'till than w'ne'er zey 

 Nore zichel, n'eer well nowe nore n'eer mey. 



Many 



