I's Borrowdale Jwohnny, just cumt up to Lunnon,
Nay, gurn nit at me, for fear I laugh at you:
I've seen kneaves donn'd i' silks, and gud men gang in tatters,
The truth we sud tell, aud gi'e auld Nick his due.
Nan Watt pruiv'd wi' bairn, what, they caw'd me the fadder;
Thinks I, shekum--filthy! be off in a treyce!
Nine Carel bank nwotes mudder slipt i' my pocket,
And fadder neist ga'e me reet holesome adveyce.

Says he, ''keep frae t' lasses! and ne'er luik ahint thee.''
We're deep as the best o' them, fadder, says I.
They pack'd up ae sark, Sunday weascwoat, twee neckcloths,
Wot bannock, cauld dumplin, and top stannin pye:
I mounted black filly, bad God bliss the auld fwok,
Cries fadder, ''Tou's larn'd, Jwohn, and hes nought to fear;
Caw and see cousin Jacep! he's got aw the money:
He'll git thee some guverment pleace,--to be seer!''

I stopp'd on a fell, tuik a lang luik at Skiddaw,
And neist at the schuil--house amang the esh trees;
Last thing, saw the smuik rising up frae our chimley,
And fan aw quite queer, wid a heart ill at ease:
But summet widin me, cried, Pou up thy spirits!
Theer's luck, says auld Lizzy, in feacin the sun;
Tou's young, lish and cliver, may wed a feyne leady,
And cum heame a nabob--aye, sure as a gun!

Knowin manners, what, I doff'd my hat to aw strangers,
Wid a spur on ae heel, a yek siplin in han,
It tuik me nine days and six hours comin up--bank,
At the Whorns--aye, 'twas Highget, a chap bad me stan;
Says he, ''How's all friens i' the North, honest Johnny?''
Odswunters! I says, what, ye divent ken me!--
I paid twee wheyte shillins, and fain was to see him,
Nit thinkin on't rwoad onie 'quaintance to see.

Neist thing, what big kurks, gilded cwoaches, hee houses,
And fwok runnin thro' other, leyke Carel Fair;
I ax'd a smart chap where to fin cousin Jacep,
Says he, ''Clown, go look!'' Friend, says I, tell me where?
Fadder' letter to Jacep hed got nae subscription,
Sae, when I was glowrin and siz'lin about,
A wheyte--feac'd young lass aw dess'd out leyke a leady,
Cried, ''Pray, Sir, step in!'' but I wish I'd kept out.

She pou'd at a bell, leyke our kurk--bell it soundet,
In com sarvant lass, and she worder'd some weyne;
Says I, I's nit dry, sae, pray, Madam, excuse me!
Nay, what she insisted I sud stop and deyne.
She meade varra free,--'twas a shem and a byzen!
I thought her in luive wi' my parson, for sure;
And promis'd to caw agean:--as for black filly,
(Wad onie believ't!) she was stown frae the duir!

Od dang't! War than that:--when I greap'd my breek--pocket,
I fan fadder watch, and the nwotes were aw gean;
It was neet, and I luik'd lang and sair for kent feaces,
But Borrowdale fwok I cud niver see neane.
I sleept on the flags, just abint the kurk corner,
A chap wid a girt stick and lantern com by,
He caw'd me peace--breaker--says I, Thou's a lear--
In a pleace leyke a saller they fworc'd me to lie.

Nae caff bed or blankets for silly pilgarlic;
Deil a wink cud I sleep, nay nor yet see a steyme;
Neist day I was ta'en to the Narration Offish,
When a man in a wig said, I'd duin a sad creyme.
Then ane ax'd my neame, and he pat on his speckets,
Says I, Jwhonny Cruckdeyke--I's Borrowdale bworn.
Whea think ye it pruiv'd, but my awn cousin Jacep,
He seav'd me fraet gallows, aye that varra mworn.

He spak to my Lword, some hard words, quite out--landish,
Then caw'd forhiscwoach, and away weruid heame;
He ax'd varra kind efter fadder and mudder,
I said they were bravely, and neist saw his deame:
She's aw puff and pouder; as for cousin Jacep,
He's got owre much gear to tek nwotish o' me;
But if onie amang ye sud want a lish sarvent,
Just bid me a weage--I'll upod ye, we's 'gree.