Some heart 'at has few other joys to cherish
May stop an' bless thee:
Then bloom, mi little pooasy! Tha'rt a beauty,
Sent here to bless: Smile on—tha does thi duty.
Aw wodn't rob another of a joy
Sich as tha's gien me;
For aw felt varry sad, mi little doy
Until aw'd seen thee.
An' may each passin', careworn, lowly brother,
Feel cheered like me, an' leave thee for another.