An' they'll long for a true friend at last,
Though it's nobbut an old umberel.
Tha's grown budgey, an' faded, an' worn,
Yet thi inside is honest an' strong,
But thi coverin's tattered an' torn,
An' awm feeard'at tha cannot last long.
But when th' few years 'at's left us have run,
An' to th' world we have whispered farewells;
May they say'at my duty wor done,
As weel as mi old umberel's.'