It's forty' long summers an' winters,
sin tha bade "gooid bye,"
An' as fine a young fella tha wor,
as iver aw met i' mi life;
When tha went to some far away land,
thi fortune to try,
An' aw stopt at hooam to toil on,
becoss it wor th' wish o' my wife.

An' shoo wor a bonny young wench,
an' better nor bonny,--
Aw seem nah as if aw can see her,
wi' th' first little bairn on her knee,
An' we called it Ann,
for aw liked that name best ov ony,
An' fowk said it wor th' pictur o' th' mother,
wi' just a strinklin o' me.

An' th' next wor a lad, an' th' next wor a lad!
then a lass came,--
That made us caant six,--
an' six happier fowk niver sat to a meal,
An' they grew like hop plants--full o' life--
but waikly i' th' frame,
An' at last one drooped,
an' Deeath coom an' marked her with his seal.

A year or two moor
an' another seemed longin to goa,
An' all we could do wor to smooth his deeath bed,