VULL A MAN.

No, I'm a man, I'm vull a man,

You beät my manhood, if you can.

You'll be a man if you can teäke

All steätes that household life do meäke.

The love-toss'd child, a-croodlèn loud,

The bwoy a-screamèn wild in plaÿ,

The tall grown youth a-steppèn proud,

The father staïd, the house's staÿ.

No; I can boast if others can,

I'm vull a man.

A young-cheäk'd mother's tears mid vall,

When woone a-lost, not half man-tall,

Vrom little hand, a-called vrom plaÿ,

Do leäve noo tool, but drop a taÿ,

An' die avore he's father-free

To sheäpe his life by his own plan;

An' vull an angel he shall be,

But here on e'th not vull a man,

No; I could boast if others can,

I'm vull a man.

I woonce, a child, wer father-fed,

An' I've a vound my childern bread;

My eärm, a sister's trusty crook,

Is now a faïthvul wife's own hook;

An' I've a-gone where vo'k did zend,

An' gone upon my own free mind,

An' of'en at my own wits' end.

A-led o' God while I wer blind.

No; I could boast if others can

I'm vull a man.

An' still, ov all my tweil ha' won,

My lovèn maïd an' merry son,

Though each in turn's a jaÿ an' ceäre,

'Ve a-had, an' still shall have, their sheäre:

An' then, if God should bless their lives,

Why I mid zend vrom son to son

My life, right on drough men an' wives,

As long, good now, as time do run.

No; I could boast if others can,

I'm vull a man.