Aw'd have yo' childer workin' less,
An' mak yor wages moor.
Poor lassie wan, &c.
"There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign,
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain."
Noa fact'ry bell shall greet thi ear,
I' that sweet home ov love;
An' those 'at scorn thi sufferins here