Come, Nivver Dee i' Thi Shell

"Come, nivver dee i' thi shell, owd lad," Are words but rudely said; Though they may cheer some stricken heart, Or raise some wretched head; For they are words I love mysel, They're music to my ear; They muster up fresh energy An' chase each doubt an' fear.

Nivver dee i' thi shell, owd lad, Though tha be poor indeed; Ner lippen ta long i' th' turnin' up Sa mich ov a friend in need; Fur few ther are, an' far between, That help a poor man thru; An' God helps them at help therseln, An' they hev friends enew.

Nivver dee i' thi shell, owd lad, Whativver thi creditors say; Tell um at least tha'rt foarst ta owe, If tha artant able ta pay; An' if they nail thi bits o' traps, An' sell tha dish an' spooin; Remember fickle forten lad, Shoo changes like the mooin.

Nivver dee i' thi shell, owd lad, Though some may laugh an' scorn; There wor nivver a neet afore ta neet, Bud what ther' com a morn; An' if blind forten used tha bad, Sho's happen noan so meean; Ta morn al come, an' then fer some The sun will shine ageean.

Nivver dee i' thi shell, owd lad, Bud let thi motto be,— "Onward!" an' "Excelsior;" An' try for t' top o't' tree: An' if thi enemies still pursue, Which ten-ta-one they will, Show um owd lad, tha'rt doin' weel, An' climin' up the hill.