Vull a Man
No, I’m a man, I’m vull a man,
You beaet my manhood, if you can.
You’ll be a man if you can teaeke
All steaetes that household life do meaeke.
The love-toss’d child, a-croodlen loud,
The bwoy a-screamen wild in play,
The tall grown youth a-steppen proud,
The father staid, the house’s stay.
No; I can boast if others can,
I’m vull a man.
A young-cheaek’d mother’s tears mid vall,
When woone a-lost, not half man-tall,
Vrom little hand, a-called vrom play,
Do leaeve noo tool, but drop a tay,
An’ die avore he’s father-free
To sheaepe his life by his own plan;
An’ vull an angel he shall be,
But here on e’th not vull a man,
No; I could boast if others can,
I’m vull a man.
I woonce, a child, wer father-fed,
An’ I’ve a vound my childern bread;
My eaerm, a sister’s trusty crook,
Is now a faithvul wife’s own hook;
An’ I’ve a-gone where vo’k did zend,
An’ gone upon my own free mind,
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 loven maid an’ merry son,
Though each in turn’s a jay an’ ceaere,
‘Ve a-had, an’ still shall have, their sheaere:
An’ then, if God should bless their lives,
Why I mid zend vrom son to son
My life, right on drough men an’ wives,
As long, good now, as time do run.
No; I could boast if others can,
I’m vull a man.
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