Gold is a burden hard to carry,
An' tho' Dame Fortune has been chary
O' gifts to me;
Yet still aw strive to feel content,
An' think what is, for th' best is meant;
An' th' mooast ov all aw strive for here,
Is still to keep mi conscience clear,
From dark spots free.
An' while some tax ther brains to find
What they'll be forced to leave behind,
When th' time shall come;
Aw try bi honest word an' deed,
To get what little here aw need,
An' live i' hopes at last to say,
When breath go as flickerin away,
'Awm gooin hooam.'"
Aw gave his hand a hearty shake,
It seem'd as tho' the words he spake
Sank i' mi heart:
Aw walk'd away a wiser man,
Detarmined aw wod try his plan
I' hopes at last 'at aw might be
As weel assured ov Heaven as he;
That's th' better part.
Done Agean.
Aw've a rare lump o' beef on a dish,
We've some bacon 'at's hung up o' th' thack,
We've as mich gooid spike-cake as we wish,
An' wi' currens its varry near black;
We've a barrel o' gooid hooam brewed drink,
We've a pack o' flaar reared agean th' clock,
We've a load o' puttates under th' sink,
So we're pretty weel off as to jock.
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