Bad News
I
do
mind
when
there
broke
bitter
tidèns,
Woone
day,
on
their
ears,
An'
their
souls
wer
a-smote
wi'
a
stroke
As
the
lightnèn
do
vall
on
the
woak,
An'
the
things
that
wer
bright
all
around
em
Seem'd
dim
drough
their
tears.
Then
unheeded
wer
things
in
their
vingers,
Their
grief
wer
their
all.
All
unheeded
wer
zongs
o'
the
birds,
All
unheeded
the
child's
perty
words,
All
unheeded
the
kitten
a-rollèn
The
white-threaded
ball.
Oh!
vor
their
minds
the
daylight
around
em
Had
nothèn
to
show.
Though
it
brighten'd
their
tears
as
they
vell,
An'
did
sheen
on
their
lips
that
did
tell,
In
their
vaïces
all
thrillèn
an'
mwoansome,
O'
nothèn
but
woe.
But
they
vound
that,
by
Heavenly
mercy,
The
news
werden
true;
An'
they
shook,
wi'
low
laughter,
as
quick
As
a
drum
when
his
blows
do
vall
thick,
An'
wer
eärnest
in
words
o'
thanksgivèn,
Vor
mercies
anew.
