Awr Annie.

Saw yo that lass wi' her wicked een?     That's awr Annie.     Shoo's th' pet o'th' haase, we call her 'queen,'     Shoo's th' bonniest wench wor ivver seen;     Shoo laffs an frolics all th' day throo, -     Shoo does just what shoo likes to do, -     But then shoo's loved, - an knows it too; -     That's awr Annie.     If ivver yo meet wi' a saucy maid, -     That's awr Annie.     Shoo's sharp as onny Sheffield blade,     Shoo puts all others into th' shade.     At times shoo'll sing or laff or cry,     An nivver give a reason why:     Sometimes shoo's cheeky, sometimes shy;     That's awr Annie.     Roamin throo meadows green an sweet,     That's awr Annie;     Trippin away wi' fairy feet,     Noa fairer flaar yo'll ivver meet;     Or in some trees cooil shade shoo caars     Deckin her golden curls wi' flaars;     Singin like happy burd for haars,     That's awr Annie.     Chock full o' mischief, aw'll admit,     That's awr Annie; -     But shoo'li grow steadier in a bit,     Shoo'll have mooar wisdom, an less wit.     But could aw have mi way i' this,     Aw'd keep her ivver as shoo is, -     Th' same innocent an artless miss,     That's awr Annie.     Child ov mi old age, dearest, best!     That's awr Annie;     Cloise to mi weary bosom prest,     Far mooar nor others aw feel blest; -     Jewels an gold are nowt to me,     For when shoo's sittin o' mi knee,     Ther's nubdy hawf as rich as me,     Unless it's Annie.