Come, stur the fire, Shadrich! and hearken to me;
I went up to Dawston their play--fwok to see,
And paid my cruik'd tizzy, and gat a front seat;
Thrang as three in a bed, they were wedg'd in that neet.
Derry Down, &c.

Furst the ban on their hoyboys and peypes did sae cruin,
Tho' they blew oft and sair, it aye seem'd the seame tune:
Aw was famish confusion--but when they began
Lack--a--day! the fair penitent pruiv'd but a man.
Derry Down, &c.

When they chink'd a lal bell, there was yen summet spak,
But he hung down his head, and he held up his back;
The picture caw'd Garrick abuin the stage stood,
I thought it yence laugh'd, and i' faith weel it mud!
Derry Down, &c.

Like a hawf white--wash'd sweep, yen Orashi bunc'd in,
And he tweyn'd leyke an edder, and cock'd up his chin;
In his yallow plush breeks, and lang black rusty sword,
Wid his square gob weyde open--thought I, what a Lword!
Derry Down, &c.

He was drucken, (that's sarten he cuden't get on;
'Loavins!' cried an auld woman; 'what, that's Rutson' Jwohn!'
'Mess, but he's a darter!' 'a topper!' says I,
Was he but in a meedow, he'd freeten the kye.
Derry Down, &c.

In bonnie flower'd weastcwoat, and full--bottom'd wig,
Auld Siholto he squeek'd leyke a stuck guinea pig;
Then his dowter he fratch'd, and her sweetheart forby,
O man! it was movin, and meade the bairns cry!
Derry Down, &c.

Yen whisper'd me softly--'that's Clogger Jwohn Bell.'
Says I, 'leyke eneugh, of that man I've heard tell.'
Now a tweesome talk'd loud, but nit varra discreet,
For they promis'd twea whores afore nuin they wad meet.
Derry Down, &c.

Frae tae fit to tudder, Lothari he hopp'd,
Aw leyke clock--wark; his words tui how neycely he chopp'd!
Peer body! he waddent lig whiet, when dead,
Sae they e'en lugg'd him out by the heels and the head.
Derry Down, &c.

There was yen wid a weast thick as onie barrel kurn,
He poud up his pettikits, then gev a gurn;
And he luik'd as to say, 'Now what think ye o'me?'
A lal lass spak the truth--it was shocken to see!
Derry Down, &c.

Neist a cliver lish chap, wid his feyne reed leed cheeks,
Blew his nwose wi' his fingers, and hotch'd up his breeks;
Then he tuik a fresh chow, and the auld'n threw out,
And said, 'Dui be whiet--what's aw this about?'
Derry Down, &c.

The schuilmaister, gager, and twee or three mair,
Hed seen Mister Punch play his pranks at a fair;
Efter far--larned threepin, at last, at the Bell,
'Twas agreed, nit ev'n Punch cud thur heroes excel.
Derry Down, &c.

See struttin and wheynin may please dwoatin fuils,
Or rough--headed callans, just sent off to schuils:
But hedst tou e'er dreamt o' sec actin, dear Rowe!
For sarten, thou ne'er wad ha'e written at aw.
Derry Down, &c.

Ye wise men o' Dawston, stick clwose to your wark,
Sit at heame wi' your weyves and your bairns efter dark;
To be caw'd kings and heroes is pleasin indeed,--
But before you turn player--fwok, furst larn to read!
Derry Down, &c.