Fanny’s Be’th-Day

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How merry, wi' the cider cup,
  We kept poor Fanny's be'th-day up!
  An' how our busy tongues did run
  An' hands did wag, a-meäkèn fun!
  What plaÿsome anticks zome 's done!
  An' how, a-reelèn roun' an' roun',
  We beät the merry tuèn down,
  While music wer a-soundèn!

  The maïdens' eyes o' black an' blue
  Did glisten lik' the mornèn dew;
  An' while the cider-mug did stand
  A-hissèn by the bleäzèn brand,
  An' uncle's pipe wer in his hand,
  How little he or we did think
  How peäle the zettèn stars did blink
  While music wer a-soundèn.

  An' Fanny's last young _teen_ begun,
  Poor maïd, wi' thik day's risèn zun,
  An' we all wish'd her many mwore
  Long years wi' happiness in store;
  An' as she went an' stood avore
  The vier, by her father's zide,
  Her mother dropp'd a tear o' pride
  While music wer a-soundèn.

  An' then we did all kinds o' tricks
  Wi' han'kerchiefs, an' strings, an' sticks:
  An' woone did try to overmatch
  Another wi' zome cunnèn catch,
  While tothers slyly tried to hatch
  Zome geäme; but yet, by chap an' maïd.
  The dancèn wer the mwost injaÿ'd,
  While music wer a-soundèn.

  The briskest chap ov all the lot
  Wer Tom, that danc'd hizzelf so hot,
  He doff'd his cwoat an' jump'd about,
  Wi' girt new shirt-sleeves all a-strout,
  Among the maïdens screamèn out,
  A-thinkèn, wi' his strides an' stamps,
  He'd squot their veet wi' his girt clamps,
  While music wer a-soundèn.

  Then up jump'd uncle vrom his chair,
  An' pull'd out aunt to meäke a peäir;
  An' off he zet upon his tooe,
  So light's the best that beät a shoe,
  Wi' aunt a-crièn "Let me goo:"
  While all ov us did laugh so loud,
  We drown'd the tuèn o' the croud,
  While music wer a-soundèn.

  A-comèn out o' passage, Nan,
  Wi' pipes an' cider in her han',
  An' watchèn uncle up so sprack,
  Vorgot her veet, an' vell down smack
  Athirt the house-dog's shaggy back,
  That wer in passage vor a snooze,
  Beyond the reach o' dancers' shoes,
  While music wer a-soundèn.

© William Barnes