When trouble an' trial wuz round us
The ol' man would say, with a smile,
“Worl' wuzn't made in a minute—
Hold on awhile!”

Nothin' could ever upset him—
Nuthin' his patience could rile:
“Wait jest a minute! Ain't nuthin' much in it—
Hold on awhile!”

An' when at the last he wuz goin',
He said, with a farewell, sweet smile,
“I'll wait fer you, boys, in that heaven o' joys,
But—hold on a while!”