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?