72
A LABOURER’S LIFE GIVE ME
As a labourer livin’ content,
Wid at night a rest-place for me head,
Oh! how gaily my life will be spent,
Wid de baneful ambition gone dead.
An’ when, after a day’s wukin’ hard,
I go home to a fait’ful wifee,
For my toilin’ dere’ll be its reward,
A peaceful heart happy an’ free.
An’ me children shall grow strong an’ true,
But I’ll teach dem dat life is a farce,
An’ de best in dis wul’ dey can do
Is to bear with content its sad cross.
So I’ll make meself happy at home,
An’ my life will be pleasanter yet;
I will take de hard knocks as dey come,
But will conquer de worry an’ fret.
Oh! a labourer’s life’s my desire
In de hot sun an’ pure season rains,
When de glow o’ de dark-red bush fire
Sends a new blood a-flow’n’ t’rough me veins.
