O but this luive is a serious thing!
It's the beginner o' monie waes;
And yen had as guid in a helter swing,
As luik at a bonny feace now-a-days:
Was there ever peer deevil sae fash'd as me?
Nobbet sit your ways still, the truth I's tell,
For I wish I'd been hung on our codlen tree,
The varra furst time I seed Barbary Bell!
Quite lish, and nit owr thrang wi' wark,
I went my ways down to Carel fair,
Wi' bran new cwoat, and brave ruffl'd sark,
And Dicky the Shaver pat flour i' my hair;
Our seyde lads are aw for fun,
Some tuik ceyder, and some drank yell;
Diddlen Deavie he strack up a tune,
And I caper'd away wi' Barbary Bell.
Says I, 'Bab,' says I, 'we'll de weel eneugh,
'For tou can kurn, and darn, and spin;
'I can deyke, men car-gear, and hod the pleugh;
'Sae at whussenday neist we'll t'warld begin:
'I's turn'd a gayshen awt' neybors say,
'I sit like a sumph, nae mair mysel',
'And up or a bed, at heame or away,
'I think o' nought but Barbary Bell.'
Then whee sud steal in but Rob o' the Nuik,
Dick o' the Steyle, and twee or three mair
Suin Barb'ry frae off my knee they tuik,
'Wey, dang it!' says I, 'but this is nit fair!'
Robbie he kick'd up a dust in a crack,
And sticks and neeves they went pel-mel,
The bottles forby the clock feace they brack,
But, fares-te-weel, wheyte-fit, Barbary Bell!
'Twas nobbet last week, nee langer seyne,
I wheyn'd i' the nuik, I can't tell how;
'Get up,' says my fadder, 'and sarra the sweyne!'
'I's bravely, Bab!' says I, 'how's tou?'
Neist inworn to t'cwoals I was fworc'd to gang,
But cowp'd the cars at Tindle Fell,
For I cruin'd aw the way, as I trotted alang,
'O that I'd never kent Barbary Bell!'
That varra seame neet up to Barbary' house,
When aw t'auld fwok were liggin asleep,
I off wi' my clogs, and as whisht as a mouse,
Claver'd up to the window, and tuik a peep;
There whee sud I see, but Watty the laird-
Od wheyte leet on him! I munnet tell!
But on Setterday neist, if I live and be spar'd
I'll wear a reed cwot for Barbary Bell.

April 14, 1802.