MY UNDERWOOD LASS.
As lang as I live an’ blest wi’ guid health,
Though friends may be few an’ I’ve little wealth,
As lang as my back its burden can bear,
I’ll never sit doonin gloomy despair;
Though time fly away like bird on the wing,
As lang as I’m able to whustle an sing,
Until the world I silently pass,
I’ll always remember my Underwood lass.
Whenever Death’s messenger knocks at my door,
And bids me prepare for eternity’s shore,
Whenever I’ve safely crossed o’er the Bourne,
And down to the dust my body return,
Whenever I’ve seen the kind Shepherd’s face,
And my body confined to its last resting place,
I pray that my hopes shall a’ come to pass,
And be united again with my Underwood lass
