162 ANITHER SANG. 



Eigh awVe fisht monie a sparklin' stream, 

 An' clumb the Mils se hee, man, 

 An' aw wul sing iboot them yit 

 Until the day aw dee, man. 



, An' then thou tells ov thaw green hills 

 Alang the banks iv Tyne, man, 

 The Mayno'er an' the weyld rose, te, 

 An' wudbine smellin' fine, man. 

 Bit ov the smells iv Lemmintin 

 Thou nivor yence did speak, man, 

 An' thou hes mist a nidee grand 

 Iboot the Wylam reek, man. 



Thou tells iboot that grand fur tree 



Besyde thaw nobil rivor ; 



When thou boasts ov thaw lassis, te, 



Thou caps me clean hoosivor. 



Noo thraw thaw picks and drills away, 



Shot-box, an 7 canny pit claes, man, 



An' smash thaw cracket a' te bits, 



An' myek sangs a' thaw days, man. 



Is seun is thou kan git away 



Cum te the West, maw laddy, 



An' we'll gan an' see that Coquet chep 



An 1 the shephord an' his pladdy. 



