Act Square.

A poem by John Hartley

"Another day will follow this,"
Ah, - that shall sewerly be,
But th' day 'at dawns to-morn, my lad,
May nivver dawn for thee,
This day is thine, soa use it weel,
For fear when it has passed,
Some duty has been left undone
On th' day at proved thy last.

What's passed an gooan's beyond recall,
An th' futer's all unknown;
Dooant specilate on what's to be,
Neglect in what's thi own.
When morn in comes thank God tha'rt spared
To see another day;
An when tha goas to bed at neet,
Life's burdens on Him lay.

Although thy station may be low,
Thy life's conditions hard,
Mak th' best o' what falls to thi lot,
An tha shall win reward.
Man's days ov toil on earth are few
Compared to that long rest
'At stretches throo Eternity,
For them 'at's done ther best.

Though monny rough hills tha's to climb,
An bogs an becks to wade;
Though thorns an brambles chooak thi path,
Yet, push on undismayed.
Detarmination, back'd wi' Faith,
An Hope to cheer thi on,
Shall gie thi strugglin efforts strength,
Until thi journey's done.

Let thi religion be thi life, -
Let ivvery word an deed
Be prompted bi a love for all,
Whativver be ther creed.
Let wranglin praichers twist an twine,
Ther doctrines new an old;
Act square, - an ther is One will see
Tha'rt net left aght i'th' cold.

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