Dooant forget the old fowks,—
They've done a lot for thee;
Remember tha'd a mother once,
Who nursed thi on her knee.
A father too, who tew'd all day
To mak thi what tha art,
An dooant forget tha owes a debt,
An strive to pay a part.
Just think ha helpless once tha wor,—
A tiny little tot;
But tha wor given th' cosiest nook
I' all that little cot.
Thy ivvery want wor tended to,
An soothed thy ivvery pain,
They didn't spare love, toil or care,
An they'd do it o'er ageean.
An all they crave for what they gave,
Is just a kindly word;—
A fond "God bless yo parents,"
Wod be th' sweetest saand they've heard.
Then dooant forget the old fowks, &c.
Tha's entered into business nah,—
Tha'rt dooin pratty weel;
Tha's won an tha desarves success,—
Aw know tha'rt true as steel.
Tha'rt growin rich, an lives i' style,
Tha's sarvents at thi call;
But dooant forget thi mother, lad,
To her tha owes it all.
Thi father totters in his walk,
His hair is growin grey;
He cannot work as once he did,
He's ommost had his day.
But th' heart 'at loved thi when a child,
Is still as warm an true;
His pride is in his lad's success,—
He hopes tha loves him too.
But what they long for mooast ov all,
Is just that kindly word,
"God bless yo, my dear parents!"
Wod be th' sweetest saand they've heard.
Then dooant forget the old fowks, &c,