No, Im a man, Im vull a man,
You beat my manhood, if you can.
Youll be a man if you can teake
All steates that household life do meake.
The love-tossd child, a-croodlen loud,
The bwoy a-screamen wild in play,
The tall grown youth a-steppen proud,
The father staid, the houses stay.
No ; I can boast if others can,
Im vull a man.
A young-cheakd mothers tears mid vall,
When woone a-lost, not half man-tall,
Vrom little hand, a-called vrom play,
Do leave noo tool, but drop a tay,
An die avore hes father-free
To sheape his life by his own plan;
An vull an angel he shall be,
But here on eth not vull a man,
No; I could boast if others can,
Im vull a man.
I woonce, a child, wer father-fed,
An Ive a-vound my childern bread;
My earm, a sisters trusty crook,
Is now a faithvul wifes own hook;
An Ive agone where vok did zend,
An gone upon my own free mind,
An ofen at my own wits end.
A-led o God while I were blind.
No; I could boast if others can,
Im vull a man.
An still, ov all my tweil ha won,
My loven maid an merry son,
Though each in turns a jay an ceare,
Ve a-had, an still shall have, their sheare
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,
Im vull a man.