At length he screw'd his courage up
To leave his native shore;
An' goa where wealth wor worshipped less,
An' men wor valued moor.
He towld his tale;—poor lass!—a tear
Just glistened in her e'e;
Then soft shoo whispered, "please thisen,
But think sometimes o' me:
An' whether tha's gooid luck or ill,
Tha knows aw shall be glad