Classic Poem

I'm up an' away
At break o' day,
An' never of work I'm weary;
For I sing this song
As I toil along—
“I've got ten acres an' Mary!”

Troubles enough—
For the worl' is rough,
An' things will go contrary;
But ever this song
As I trudge along—
“I've got ten acres an' Mary!”

No angel bright,
With wings of light;
Of a angel I'd grow weary;
But a woman true,
That's a joy to you—
“I've got ten acres an' Mary!”