Man! mind thyself, and all thyself;
Thy inner self, thy outer self,
Thy present self, thy future self,
The best of self, and worst of self;
Or it may chance that thou, thyself,
For ever may’st upbraid thyself,
For making such a fool of self,
As not in time to know thyself!
O Man! do thou enjoy thyself,
For why should’st thou annoy thyself,
Or strangely thus employ thyself,
In seeking thus to know thyself,
When other men are like thyself!
Beware lest thou destroy thyself!
Be not a burden to thyself,
While thou hast life within thyself!
Fine man, think highly of thyself!
Put no restraint upon thyself;
Nor with religion plague thyself!
For thou art not so bad as self
Would sometimes make thee think thyself!
To my advice submit thyself,
And in thy lusts indulge thyself;—
Then I at last shall get thyself!
A DIALOGUE
Between Rosedale Bob and Hartoft John, on a Speech delivered by the Venerable The Archdeacon P——, L.L.D., at a Bible Meeting held in the new Church, Rosedale.
’At macks ye leeak seea dark aboot yer broo?
Yoo leeak as thof yer parliament petition
Had met wi’ sum romantic opposition!
Or mebby yoo hev met wi’ sum abuse,
Or fra’ sum quarter heeard sum heavy news!
Perhaps the trial may cum clooaser still,
Yer wife or childer may be takken ill.
The fields an’ forests seeam i’ moorning clad;
By men unauthorized an’ unordeean’d,
Oor new erected Temple is profeean’d!
The cushions an’ the tassels all are soil’d,
The bell’s enchanted, an’ oor woorship’s spoil’d,
They’ve held in it, what’s caus’d this desecration,
A meetin’ for t’ Baable’s circulation.
The fields an’ fleeads may clap ther hands an’ laff;
Sin’ better sense is teeachin’ greeat an’ small,
Te send this glorious leeght fra’ pole te pole!
’Tis yan o’ Jesus Christ’s last greeat commands,
Te send this leeght te dark an’ heathen lands.
Lets whooap the profit ’ll ootweigh the loss;—
If t’parson beean’t t’Church ’ll be neea worse!
Te say, hoo far this mischief may extend.
Oor greeat Divine, afoore he left the pleeace,
He tell’d us positive it wur the keease:
Hiz argument did raise te that amoont,
The Church wur ruin’d on this seeame accoont;
When sike like wark the church’s pillars shake,
Hiz maister’s honner foorc’d him for te speak.
’Tis lahtle matter whea or what he be:
The thing’s reveal’d tiv us as clear as him,
What God approves man owght nut te condemn.
Whate’er may be his sacerdotal geeans,
The public, they may thenk him for hiz peeans;
’At he seea fine a sample sud dispense
Ov college iddicated influence.
Daft Hannah’s speech be quite as full o’leeght.
She thinks t’awd man sud nut ha’ beean seea vext,
Bud tonn’d hiz leeaf an’ teean anuther text.
The bad effects hez beean, she hez neea doot,
Wi’ brush or beezom swept an’ carried oot;
They teeak true pains te mack all clean an’ clivver,
An’ t’ Church is noo as gud an’ weel as ivver.
If yance t’Baable an’ the truth be spreead,
The veil ’ll fall fra’ off the people’s eyes,
An’ t’ commons then will as the lords be wise;
They then ’ll graw so base i’ disposition,
Te heigher powers they will disdain submission;
An’ will te men ov honourable name,
Refuse that homage which ther titles claim!
Wi’ saucy steeples moonting te the skies;
An’ preeachers run, or ride on hoss or gig,
As rank as sheep that travel Blaca rig,
If sike proceedings further be alloo’d,
Awd England’s sun ’ll set behinnd a clood:—
Nur need we wonder they alood procleeam,
Thooase men sal speeak neea longer i’ this neeame.
By men ’at scarce wur fit te stand i’ t’ porch,
Wur sike a stain upon its consecration,
As roused his reverence’s indignation.
What cud thooase expect as ther reward,
Bud fra’ sike bold attempts te be debarr’d;
Nur ivver mare mun they cum theer again,
Whahl he hiz sacred office does sustain!
If sike like doctrines spreead an’ sud prevail,
Then Bishop’s ordination treead ’ll fail;
Then grace ’ll mare than larning be admired,
An’ priests stand i’ the market place unhired:
Men will fra’ ivvery secret corner creep,
Or oot o’ coalpits into pulpits leap;
Whahl wi’ ther gestures an’ insinuations,
They’ll rob the Churches o’ ther congregations.
Seea stupid as te nowther leead nur drive,
Nur draw by gifts, nur binnd doon by oppression,
Nur scar by Apostolical Succession:
In vain a man may then hiz feeace disguise,
An’ landlords ower ther tenants tyrannize.
Neea patchwark then ’ll answer as afoore,
Nur gowns, nur blankets buy or sell the poor.
That Parson then by chance may loss hiz pleeace,
Whea hunts, or gallops i’ the Steeple Chase;
Whea i’ the ring appears a jovial fellow,
Sits by his wine or grog till he is mellow;
Then wi’ hiz dogs pursues the grouse or game
Mare than the cottage ov the poor or lame;
Or if hiz gun sud chance te miss the mark
Te rap an’ sweear, an’ lie all t’bleeam o’ t’ clerk.
Sud be seea feearful ov hiz treead an’ clan;
If better leeght be spreead by land an’ sea,
Oor heeame boond slaves ’ll seek for liberty,
They’ll finnd they’re neean seea fit te show the way,
As thooase ’at walks theerin fra’ day te day.
Bud God himsel has teeak the thing i’ hand,
An’ Baable Meetings yet sal bless oor land;
Oor God ’ll raise up men ov noble soul,
An’ He the sleepy churches will controul:
Will send hiz sarvants whea hiz judgements knaw,
Te thunner oot the terrors ov His law;
Whahl Jesus will hiz meeghty airm mack bare,
An’ tack the flocks himsel into hiz care.
As labouring men finnd hard for te resist.
O’t’ Sabbath days they rob beeath God an’ man,
That scribe may preeav this statement fause as can.
All hands mun haste seean as they hear the bell,
To t’steeple hoose let t’priest be what he will;
An’ thooase ’at izzen’t satisfied wi’ t’kirk,
Mun owther quit ther farm or loss ther woark.
Fra’ God te man for holy purpose given;
Peace te promote an’ put an end te strife,
Te regulate hiz hoosehod an’ hiz life.
In holy days afoore the churches fell,
Neea music soonded like the sabbath bell;
The ministers wur thoughtful, holy men,
Nur threeats wur needed, nur compulsion then.
An’ hear fooaks sing wi’ love an’ melody,
As yan hez reead i’ bukes ov holy men,
’At nowther cared for fire nur lion’s den:
Bud dreeaded sin wi’ all its scorpion stings,
Mare than the wrath ov heathen priests an’ kings.
All whea te God in meek submission boo,
Thof t’way be dark, He’ll awlus bring ’em throo.
An’ Anti-Christ hez hed hiz pompous reign;
When persecution wi’ her torch an’ foark,
Sets carnal men an’ ministers te woark,
Te help the Beast te mack hiz proselytes,
Te purge hiz fleer, an’ bon the hypocrites:—
Then thooase whea live, an’ hev the truth maintained,
I’ cleearer leeght ’ll hev the thing explained.
A LOVE LETTER!
(To Miss ——)
As to declare a suitor’s love for thee;
And by the strength of his affection, move
Thy heart to render back responsive love!
Though it seem rude, is from an honest heart;
From one whose only aim and object is,
Thy Lover’s glory, and thy future bliss.
For I, alas, no excellence can plead;
My handsomest attire is homely spun,
And many years my glass of life hath run!
Thy soul shall one day in his presence stand;
And thou for ever may’st lament the change,
If once His love be turn’d into revenge!
He told me secretly He was the first;
That even in thy youthful frolics wild,
His love was on thee, from a very child!
While thou did’st other swains prefer before:
That oft the tear hath dim’d his eye so bright,
His locks all dripping with the dews of night!
He is the fairest of the sons of men!
He wooes the world, and those who hear his voice,
Seldom, if ever, rue their happy choice.
And carried weighty sorrows in thy stead;
To save thy soul from infinite distress,
He bruis’d the monster in the wilderness!
What perils He hath undergone for thee;
Yea, many a bitter cup, and piercing smart,
His soul hath felt to gain thy worthless heart!
Is highly honour’d in the courts above;
He speaks, and sun, and moon, and stars, stand still,
And stormy winds and waves obey his will!
When midnight thunders rolled above thy head!
When trembling thou beheld’st the lightning’s glare
Light up thy room, and cause thee sudden fear!
The best Physician too, when sick of love;
And yet all those who fall beneath his ire,
His anger doth consume and burn like fire!
Or from thyself such permanent delight,
As He hath promis’d in His faithful word,
Such as the hills of Paradise afford?
And thy fair breast with holy ardour glow?
When will thy lips thy dearest friend surprise,
By speaking out the language of the skies?
Through life’s vicissitudes are sure to find
“Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end,”
A faithful Lover, and a constant Friend!
Who his repeated overtures reject,
Who put in other gods their daily trust,
When He shall dash their refuge into dust?
Beam forth with holy confidence divine;
And, fully freed from sin’s enthralling chain,
No longer seek for happiness in vain!
Thy choice decide, while He doth with thee bear;
Lest thou lament thy loss with anguish keen,
When Death hath fix’d a mighty gulf between!
TRUTH TRIUMPHANT!
Wave along the vaulted sky!
See yon flag, &c.
To its hem fair Truth is bound,
Blood of martyrs sprinkled round;
That earth’s multitudes may see,
Truth will have the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
Babes shall sing of Sharon’s Rose!
Wicked men, &c.
Borne on winds from pole to pole,
Like the prophet’s flying roll;
Ethiopia soon shall see
Truth will have the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
With this heav’nly light divine!
Some of earth’s, &c.
Africa’s dark sons obey,
Pagan temples own her sway;—
Own with us, ’tis God’s decree,
Truth shall have the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
Mercy is proclaim’d for you!
Turks! who will, &c.
Men are ceasing to bow down,
To their gods of wood and stone;
And all nations soon shall see,
Truth will have the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
Christ and Truth are both but one!
Where Truth, &c.
Saints shall find the promise true,
Christ will soon “make all things new;”
And rejoice at God’s decree,
Truth shall have the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
Put your prowess to the test!
Pow’rs of darkness! &c.
Persecution fierce employ,
Jesu’s kingdom to destroy,
’Tis in vain! ’tis God’s decree,
Truth shall have the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
Objects of his wrath no more!
Jews! the Crucified, &c.
Own the Galilean King,
With your gentile brethren sing;
Now obey, ’tis God’s decree,
Truth shall have the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
Let all true believers say!
Hasten, Lord, &c.
When these frozen hearts shall flow,
Each with love and wonder glow;
All with one accord agree,
Truth hath gain’d the Victory!
Victory! Victory!
Wake the dead from sleep profound!
Soon the, &c.
Earth shall melt, the stars shall fall,
Men on rocks and mountains call;
Christ will then his saints set free:—
What a glorious Victory!
Victory! Victory!
REFLECTIONS ON A BACKSLIDER.
How happy the scenes from which thou art driven!
Behold! if thy soul can dwell on the sight,
Where thou didst once walk and hold converse with heaven!
To which with swift steps thy spirit is bound;
See the hideous forms which thy spirit shall chase,
Ere long in that fire which thee will surround!
While demons triumph at thy overthrow;
With flaming firebrands lash thy naked soul,
With burning arrows pierce thee through and through!
Shall curse the day on which she first drew breath;
Her awful burden she must still sustain,
And weep, and wail, and long in vain for death!
Of double vengeance from Jehovah’s ire,
And in the burning lake for ever sink,—
That dreadful region of tormenting fire!
Nor hell can fright, nor heav’nly joys allure;
In vain thy self-convicted soul complains,
Of constant torment, and of thoughts impure!
Rejoicing saints perform the three-fold part;
In vain believers flash devotion’s fire,
Or drag the holy harrows o’er thy heart!
Laments its loss, and seeks for rest in vain!
Sighs for that impulse which she once did feel,—
Oh! shall she never taste those joys again.
Of boundless mercy, and unmeasur’d grace,
But sin hath fix’d a mighty gulf between,—
Beyond that gulf a Saviour shows his face.
Through liquor’s magic, or associates gay,
But this thy strongest refuge will o’erturn,
To think of Death, and the great judgement day.
VILLAGE PREACHING.
“Speak unto us smooth things.” (Isaiah xxx. 10.)
Water’d by rivulets and rills,
A lovely village doth appear,
And o’er the trees its chimneys rear
And several unconverted people;
Though not much pious fruit appear,
The people still desire to hear.
In their old summer beaten track,
Where they the Holy Spirit grieve,
And pray for what they don’t believe.
Whose doctrine is not too severe;
Who make no push extraordinary,
But tell their tale and let them be.
A stranger chanced to stroll that way;—
I’ll try to sketch him if I can,
Some call him an eccentric man.
Whom his own sins had soundly frightened;
Who when by strong conviction pained,
Did pardon seek, which he obtained.
By faith in the atoning blood;
But saw the people’s sad condition,
And offer’d them his admonition.
Where long had been the means of grace;
The means by many long neglected,
For fear they there should be detected.
Who her advice did gratis give;
Who cared for both the flock and fold,
Like Deborah in days of old.
A glorious gospel victory;
And gave a friendly invitation,
To hear an extra exhortation.
The preacher went and took his text:—
Sinners! your bleeding Saviour see,
He cries, “Ye will not come to me!”
Who come to Christ and leave their sin;
How those shall fare in the great day,
Who all their life time stay away.
They sang, and then began to pray;
He left his elevated station,
And went among his congregation,
He ask’d them questions, one by one,
And if advice or help was needing,
For penitents who then were pleading.
The good, old-fashioned gospel way;
And closer press’d the invitation,
Until ’twas time for separation.
They say completely spoil’d the meeting;—
That preacher’s conduct is unstable,
Who cannot keep behind the table!
Into the soul’s affairs to pry;
For whether they be saved or no,
Is more than they’ve a right to know.
To some might prove a great offence;—
Going and asking one by one,
How they for Heaven are getting on!
If she one promise will fulfil;
That is as long as she is able,
Will keep the man behind the table.
Who like a lusty, loud “Amen!”
And folks have now a taste so fine,
A semiquaver breaks the line!
You cannot press the thing too close,
If you would do the people good,
Or clear your conscience of their blood.
Then your aid is further needed;
To lift up still your warning voice,
Nor leave the people to their choice.
And God’s rich blessings do despise,
Others may need your friendly care,
And will your counsel gladly hear.
Perchance might save some soul from Hell;
Oh think of this,—and if you’re able,
You may stand still behind the table.
And find the people as before;
They must have either chain or cable,
If they keep me behind the table.
THE LODGER IN LIVERPOOL;
OR,
THE MASON IN WINTER NIPT BY THE FROST.
While a card party were enjoying themselves in an adjoining room.
Happy days for ever fled;
A lonely lodger in a corner,
Like some hermit in his shed.
My light’s dim, and harp’s unstrung,
While memory turns to yonder valley,
On whose flowery banks I’ve sung.
Far from country, friends, and home;
And as far from kindness parted,
Doom’d for work the world to roam.
Gaily the glad table round;
From my eye the tear unnoticed,
Oft hath fallen to the ground.
Or the treachery of men,
Or of robbers seeking booty,
Like the tiger from his den.
Serve to gild the gay deceit;
Amorous ditties serve for graces,
Both before and after meat.
Mine to drag the galling chain;
But still a hope my spirit buoys,
That the sun will shine again.
I might long with them to share;
Did they lead to joys eternal,
When they laugh, I might despair.
Nor permits the least excuse,
Happy they, whom time’s avenger,
Charges not with its abuse.
EDOM.
(Isaiah lxiii. 1.)
Of the things which by faith I have seen;
Of the love of my Saviour and King,
While wandering on earth I have been.
For this I have reason to mourn;
And for talents and time mis-improved,
In the days of my youth that are gone.
Which so often did sound in mine ear;
My affections they did not incline,
I neglected like others to hear.
And left the fair pastures serene;
Did wander from him far away,
Where terror and darkness were seen.
As we roam’d o’er those desolate plains;
We became their unfortunate prey,
And were bound in affliction and chains.
Nor had courage nor strength to look up;
Yet we oft cast a languishing eye,
To the hills from whence cometh our hope.
To whom the sad signal we gave;
He looked like a champion of war,
He was bloody—yet mighty to save!
We related to Him all our grief,
He said that heaven heard us complain,
And ’twas He that had brought us relief.
“Why so red in thy glorious array?
Like one who is sorely dismayed,
Through the burden and heat of the day?”
That you in His glory may shine;
Whose throne is on high o’er all heights,
And the work of redemption is mine.
Who would rescue lost man from the grave?
I, my love and omnipotence task’d,
That the ruined and lost I might save!
And I looked for help but found none;
So my life I have laid down for you,
And have trodden the wine press alone.
“’Twas for you I was bruised as ye see;
There was none for this wonderful toil,
And the burden fell all upon me!”
And He broke our tyrannical chain;
While His blood stream’d afresh from each wound,
And whoever it touch’d was made clean!
Therefore open your hearts to receive;
You need be no longer afraid
If you truly repent and believe!”
His visage though marr’d grew more fair;
With swift wings and angelical song,
He ascended on high in the air!
And our eyes could behold him no more;
He arose to the regions of light,
And left us to believe and adore!
REFLECTIONS ON ABSENT FRIENDS, GONE TO AMERICA.
The last golden streamer had left the tall tree;
The dwelling below seemed forsaken and gloomy,
Its inmates were tossing upon the wide sea.
Which oft had supplied them with Sunday’s perfume;
The wall-flower in sorrowful modesty flourish’d,
And wept o’er the beautiful daisy in bloom!
On whose flowery bank they were oft wont to stray;
No more the still grove with sweet echoes is ringing,
To the voice of the milk maid, or children at play.
Of its master and mistress but lately bereft;
I listen’d and look’d to the place they frequented,
Of them not a sigh, nor a whisper is left.
When towed by the steamer the ocean they braved;
Their force was evinced by the tears that were flowing,
As the hat, or the hand, or the handkerchief waved.
A cargo most precious, and dear to our sight;
Far o’er the blue surface affection pursued them,
Till the ship was conceal’d by the curtain of night.
As the fast sailing Arundel bears them away;
We can only consign them to heavenly protection,
To Him, whom the winds and the waters obey.
Their affection in tokens which there he will see;
Where with sorrowful heart each friend or each lover,
May sigh o’er their names in the bark of the tree.
THE LAST JOB OF AN OLD TRAMP;
OR,
REFLECTIONS ON BURNING A MASON’S MALLET FOR A YULE CLOG, ON CHRISTMAS EVE.
By him who best that value understood;
Whose purse so often thou didst help to fill,—
Whom bed and board,
Thou didst afford,
Attended by thy train of sharpen’d steel!
Thy fellowship was to thy master dear:—
Whether at work, or o’er his shoulder slung,
Or near his side,
Thou wast his pride,
While with his friend he cheerful sat and sung!
Or summer’s heat, in country or in town,
The stone hath yielded to thy sturdy blow:—
Thy day is gone,
Thy task is done,
And thou art own’d by thy last master now!
And see thee down to ashes waste away;
Thy crackling whisper seems to shew to me,
The frailty clear,
Of all things here,
To earth allied, and man’s mortality!
Or on thy branch the birds the woodlands cheer’d,
What strange vicissitudes have roll’d between;
Since thou wast nurs’d,
With care at first,
Or in the forest flourish’d gay and green!
In mystic triumph o’er the woodman’s grave,
Whose stroke had ceas’d, worn out by course of years;
Where undismay’d
The breezes play’d,
Whose peaceful shade remembrance only bears!
Thy ashes lost in field, or flood, or lane;
No more the sun will on thy substance shine:
It would, at last, I fear,
Be well with many here,
If life’s last spark might be compared with thine!
GLOSSARY.
Aboon—above
Ageean—against
Ah—I
Ah’v—I have
Airm—arm
Alang—along
’At’s—that is
Awd—old
Awn—own
Awlus—always
Ax—ask
Baable—bible
Bairn—child
Beck—a brook
Beean—been
Beeans—bones
Beean’t—be not
Beeath—both
Beelds—builds
Berreed—buried
Besaads—besides
Blaw—blow
Bleead—blood
Boo—bow
Booast—boast
Boorn—born
Boon—going
Bon—burn
Bonny—handsome
Bowght—bought
Breeght—bright
Brigg—bridge
Broo—brow
Bukes—books
Cawd—cold
Caps—puzzles
Cheeans—chains
Childer—children
Chimler—chimney
Clim—climb
Clivver—clever
Com—came
Congker’d—conquered
Convarsion—conversion
Cooat—coat
Coorse—course
Cubburt—cupboard
Cum—come
Daft—weak in mind
Dee—die
Deea—do
Deeal—dale
Deean—done
Deed—died
Deein—dying
Desaun’d—designed
Doon—down
Doot—doubt
Draave—drive
Duffil—kind of coarse cloth
Ee—eye
Een—eyes
Efter—after
Ey—aye
Faanly—finely
Fain—glad
Fand—found
Fause—false
Feeat—foot
Feead—fed
Feight—fight
Finnd—find
Flay’d—afraid
Fleead—flood
Fleer—floor
Floor—flower
Foark—fork
Fooas—foes
Fooaks—folks
Fooam—foam
Foond—found
Forgeean—forgiven
Fower—four
Fra’—from
Freeat—fret
Frev—from
Froon’d—frowned
Fund—found
Gaain—going
Gamlin—gambling
Gang—to go
Gangin—going
Gat—got
Geean—gone
Geean’d—gained
Geen—given
Gie—give
Ginnes—guineas
Gitten—got
Gooan—gone
Greeatin—groaning
Greeave—grave
Hawf—half
Heeame—home
Heearth—earth
Heeigh—high
Hennut—have not
Hev—have
Hez—has
Hezzen’t—has not
Hods—holds
Hoo—how
Hoor—hour
Hooivver—however
Hoose—house
Hoosin—household
Hoss—horse
Iddicated—educated
I’ noo—soon
I’ t’—in the
Iv—in
Ivvery—every
Keease—case
Ken—to see
Kesenmas—christmas
Kest—cast
Kirk—church
Knaw—know
Ky—cows
Lahtle—little
Lee—a lie
Leeak—look
Leeatly—lately
Leeght—light
Lie—to lay
Lig—to lie
Lood—loud
Loore—learning
Loss—lose
Mack—make
Mah—my
Mahle—mile
Mare—more
Maund—mind
Mebby—may be
Meead—made
Meeasons—masons
Meeght—might
Meer—a mare
Misteean—mistaken
Mitch—much
Mooan’t—must not
Mooat—mote
Moont—mount
Mud—might
Mun—must
Natches—notches
Neea—no
Neean—none
Neegh—nigh
Neeght—night
Neen—nine
Nivver—never
Nobbut—only
Nooas—noes
Nooatice—notice
Nooation—idea
Nowght—nothing
Nowther—neither
Nowthern—northern
Nut—not
Ommost—almost
Onny—any
Oor—our
O’ t’—of the
Ower—over
Owerton—overturn
Owght—ought, or aught
Owther—either
Pearted—parted
Pertend—pretend
Pleeace—place
Pleugh—plough
Plissures—pleasures
Poosts—posts
Praaze—praise, or prize
Preear—prayer
Preeav—prove
Prisance—presence
Prooan—prone
Prooase—prose
Prood—proud
Raise—rise
Rath—wrath
Reeace—race
Reeght—right
Reen—reign
Rint—rent
Rowlin—rolling
Rum—room
Saain’d—signed
Sal—shall
Sare—sore
Sarten—certain
Sawn—sown
Screeve—mark
Seea—so
Seeaf—safe
Seeaven—seven
Seeght—sight
Seer—sure
Shanks—legs
Shaw—show
Sheeape—shape
Shoat—short
Shoo—show
Shoothers—shoulders
Sike—such
Sin’—since
Skoors—scores
Snaw—snow
Soorce—source
Sowl—soul
Spak—spoke
Steead—stood
Steeaks—stakes
Steean—stone
Strang—strong
Strave—strive
Stond—stand
Stour—drift
Sud—should
Sum—some
Sute—suit
Swap—exchange
Taame—time
Tack—take
Teea an’ fraw—to and fro
Teeables—tables
Teeak—took
Teeal—tale
Teean—taken
Tegither—together
Te t’—to the
Thah—thy
Thee—thy
Theer—there
Thenk—thank
Ther—their
Thof—though
Thowght—thought
Thraving—thriving
Thruff—through
Thunner—thunder
Tiv—to
Ton—turn
Toons—towns
Towght—taught
Treead—trade
Trimmel’d—trembled
Trist—trust
’Twad—it would
Twea—two
Ungker’d—strange
Wad—would
Waddn’t—would not
Wark—work
Warst—worst
Wean’t—will not
Weeap—weep
Weel—well
Wesh—wash
Wha—who
Whahl—while
Wheas—who is, or whose
Whooap—hope
Whoor—where
Winder—window
Winnut—will not
Wiv—with
Woak—walk
Woark—work
Wods—words
Wor—were
Woth—worth
Wrang—wrong
Wur—our
Wur—was
Yack—oak
Yah—one
Yan—one
Yance—once
Yer—your