Tha Girt Harcheology by Edward Slow

A main girt fuss ther wur las week,
In thase yer leetle town, min
Var here did meet a lot a voke,
Of girt hankshint renown, min.

Bit wat' twar var, I hardly knows,
An dall'd, if I can see;
This much I knows, they caals therselves,,
Tha girt Harcheology.

Vust day thay in Town Hall did meet,
As thick as any vlees;
A viewin on zart of things,
Of woold anticketies.

An ther our Passin rade aloud,
While zome did nod and snore;
A peaper, bout ower girt vine Church,
Which main o'm knaw'd avore.

An ater that, thay went ta dine,
Down at tha Pembrook Yarms;
Which wur tha ony thing ta I,
Tha zeemed ta av zum charms.

Ther thay did stuff an vill away,
Unger an thirst ta quench;
Bit wat tha ad. I cudden tell,
Vor 'twur put down in Vrench.

Then thay did spachefy an zay,
Wat thay wur gwain to do;
An zom wur zartin zure that thay,
Shid vine out zummit new.

Nex day in busses, brakes, an vans,
Thay went off vor a spree;
An purty well that manag'd it,
Thase girt Harcheology.

Vor everywhere wur thay did goo,
Nice veasts wur ael spread out;
Amang tha woold anticketies,
Which thay wur come about.

We Wardour, they zeem'd nayshun plaz'd,
As thay wak'd in an out;
Tha vine woold ruins stannin there,
Wat Cromwell knock'd about.

Nex day thay off again did goo,
To Zalsbry an around;
Ta see tha girt vine hankshint things,
That ael about is voun.

An ael did look za jolly well,
An plaz'd as thay could be;
Var skierce bit veasten ael tha time,
Be thase Harcheology.

Bit as I zed avore, I dwoant,
An even now caant zee;
Wat good thay dooes ta we poor voke,
Thase girt Harcheology.

Ta zee woold ruins an woold things,
Na doubt ta thay zeems gran;
Bit dang if I dwont think that thay,
Cud, het on a better plan.

Za-poussin thay wur ael ta meet,
Ta renevate tha ruin;
Of poor vokes houssen that thay zees,
Wat good ud thay be do-un.

Bit spoose var drownin' out thease hint,
I mist apologie;
Bit I da hope thay'll ze ta it,
Thase girt Harcheology.