Bide Thi Time.

A poem by John Hartley

Bide thi time! it's sure to come,
Tho' it may seem tardy, -
Thine's a better fate nor some:
If tha's but a humble home,
Yet thart strong an hardy;
Then cheer up an ne'er repine,
Be content, an bide thi time.

Bide thi time! if fortun's blind,
Rail not at her givin;
If tha thinks shoo's ovver kind
To thi neighbor, nivver mind,
If tha gets a livin;
Woll thi life is in its prime,
Be content, an bide thi time.

Bide thi time! for ther's a endin
To a loin, haivver long:
Things at th' warst mun start o' mendin;
Ther's noa wind but what's befriendin
One or other, tho' its strong:
Remember, poverty's noa crime -
Be content, an bide thi time.

Bide thi time! tho none are near thee
To stretch out a helpin hand;
Let noa darken'd prospect fear thee,
Ther's a promise yet should cheer thee
As tha nears a breeter land:
Tho thi rooad is hard to climb,
Be content, an bide thi time.

Bide thi time! "I will not leave thee
Nor forsake thee," He hath said.
Let not worldly smiles deceive thee,
Trust in Him - He will relieve thee -
He that gives thy daily bread:
Fill'd with faith and love sublime,
Still contented, bide thi time.