Grace Poem by John Hartley

God bless ivery one raand yor table
Wi' plenty to ait an' to spare;
God bless yo an' mak yo all able
To enjoy what may fall to yor share.
God bless yo wi health an' wi riches,
God bless yo wi hearts 'at can feel
For the poor, when cold poverty twitches.
God bless them sometimes wi' a meal.
God bless them 'at's climbin' life's mountain,
Full ov hooaps 'at they niver may craan,
An' refresh from Thy cool soothin' fountain,
Those who paddle resignedly daan.
An' tho' in death's mist-shrouded valley
Our friends we may lose for a while,
God grant that at last all may rally
Where sunleet shall fade in His smile.