Like misen an mi wife, they're fast wearin away,--
They've been shabby for monny a year;
They have been a hansum pair once, aw can say,
Yet to me they wor nivver mooar dear.
Aw hooap they may last wol aw'm summon'd away,
An this life's journey peacefully ends;
For to part wod feel hard, for at this time o'th' day,
It's too lat to be makkin new friends.
Aw know varry weel 'at ther end must be near,
For aw see ha they're worn daan at th' heel;
But they've sarved me reight weel, an aw'st ha nowt to fear,
If aw've sarved His purpose as weel
A Friend to Me.
Poor Dick nah sleeps quietly, his labor is done,
Deeath shut off his steam tother day;
His engine, long active, has made its last run,
An his boiler nah falls to decay.
Maybe he'd his faults, but he'd vartues as well,
An tho' dearly he loved a gooid spree;
If he did onny harm it wor done to hissel:--
He wor allus a gooid friend to me.
His heart it wor tender,--his purse it wor free,
To a friend or a stranger i' need;
An noa matter ha humble or poor they might be,
At his booard they wor welcome to feed.
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