Marra To Bonney

What would you do wi' a doughter--          Pray wi' her, bensil(1) her, flout her?--     Say, what would you do wi' a daughter          That's marra to Bonney(2) hissen?     I prayed wi' her first, of a Sunday,          When chapil was lowsin' for t' neet;     An' I laid all her cockaloft marlocks(3)          'Fore th' Almighty's mercy-seat.     When I looked for her tears o' repentance,          I jaloused(4) that I saw her laugh;     An' she said that t' Powers o' Justice          Would scatter my words like chaff.     Then I bensilled her hard in her cham'er,          As I bensils owd Neddy i' t' cart.     If prayers willent teach thee, my dolly,          Happen whip-stock will mak thy tears start.     But she stood there as chuff as a mawmet,(5)          Not one chunt'rin(6) word did she say:     But she hoped that t' blooid o' t' martyrs          Would waish all my sins away.     Then I thought, mebbe floutin' will mend her;          So I watched while she cam out o' t' mill,     And afore all yon Wyke lads an' lasses          I fleered at her reight up our hill.     She winced when she heeard all their girnin',          Then she whispered, a sob i' her throat:     "I reckon I'll noan think o' weddin'          While women are given their vote."     What would you do wi' a doughter--          Pray wi' her, bensil her, flout her?--     Say, what would you do wi' a daughter          That's marra to Bonney hissen?