Blogs and book

Some believed in His glad tidins,--
Saw Him cure men ov ther blindness,--
Saw Him make once-deead fowk livin,
Saw Him full o' love an kindness.
Wicked men at last waylaid Him,
Drag'd Him off to jail and tried Him,
Tho noa fault they could find in Him,
Yet they cursed an crucified Him.
Nubdy knows ha mich He suffered;
But His work on earth wor ended:--
From the grave whear they had laid Him,
Into Heaven He ascended.
Love like His may well bewilder,--
Sinners weel may bow befoor Him;--
Nah He waits for th' little childer,
Up in Heaven whear saints adore Him.
Think when sittin raand yor hearthstun,
An the Kursmiss bells are ringing,
Ha He lived an died at yo may
Join those angels in ther singin.

Words ov Kindness.

'Tis strange 'at fowk will be sich fooils
To mak life net worth livin',
Fermentin' rows, creatin' mooils,
Detractin' an' deceivin'.
To fratch an' worry day an' neet,
Is sewerly wilful blindness,
When weel we know ther's nowt as sweet,
As a few words spoke i' kindness.


Pages:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25