Some of my diseases are cured a few years ago,
And some of them helped some,
And some of them patched along,
And some of them not any better at all,
But I am dreadful wore down with long sickness.
A common thing in my sickness,
Milk my cow, take care of my hens,
In such misery, I felt as if I must fall at every step,
But I must do it, I must do it.
Oh, Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear,