An' of'en at my own wits' end.
A-led o' God while I wer blind.
No; I could boast if others can
I'm vull a man.
An' still, ov all my tweil ha' won,
My lovèn maïd an' merry son,
Though each in turn's a jaÿ an' ceäre,
'Ve a-had, an' still shall have, their sheäre:
An' then, if God should bless their lives,
Why I mid zend vrom son to son