(Yorkshire)
Love and Friendship
Emily Brunte
The wild rose-briar is sweet n’ sprin,
its summah blossom cent t' air;
yet old on til wintah comes agin
n' ooh uhl call t' wild-briar fair?
So we’ll go no more a rovin'
Lord
Byron
Fer the sword outweass its sheath,
an' the soul weass ert the breus,
an' the heart mun pause ter breathe,
an' love itself yav rest.
(Scouse)
If I could tell you
W.H.Auden
Ay wandered lonely as a cloud
that floats on ai o’er vales and 'ills,
whun all a once ay saw a crowd,
a 'ost, o' goldun daffodils;
besides de’ lake, beneath de’ trees,
flutti'n and danc’n in de’ breeze.
(Geordie)
Invictus
William Ernest Henley
Oot
o the neet tha covers me,
black as the pit frem pole te pole,
ah thank
whativvor gods ma be
fre me unconqueryeble soul.
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