They’re rich whea in age are leet hearted,
An’ mourn nit for days that are geane.”
The Days that are geane.
“We us’d to go to bed at dark,
And ruse agean at four or five;
The mworn’s the only teyme for wark,
If fwok are hilthy and wou’d thrive.
Now we git up—nay, God kens when!
And nuin’s owre suin for us to deyne;
I’s hungry or the pot’s half boiled,