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Paul Laurence Dunbar - Advice
Work rating: Low

W`EN you full o` worry
`Bout yo` wo`k an` sich,
W`en you kind o` bothered
Case you can`t get rich,
An` yo` neighboh p`ospah
Past his jest desu`ts,
An` de sneer of comerds
Stuhes yo` heaht an` hu`ts, 
Des don` pet yo` worries,
Lay `em on de she`f,
Tek a little trouble
Brothah, wid yo`se`f.
Ef a frien` comes mou`nin`
`Bout his awful case,
You know you don` grieve him
Wid a gloomy face,
But you wrassle wid him,
Try to tek him in;
Dough hit cracks yo` features,
Law, you smile lak sin,
Ain`t you good ez he is?
Don` you pine to def;
Tek a little trouble
Brothah, wid yo`se`f.
Ef de chillun pestahs,
An` de baby`s bad,
Ef yo` wife gits narvous,
An` you`re gettin` mad, 
Des you grab yo` boot-strops,
Hol` yo` body down,
Stop a-tinkin` cuss-w`rds,
Chase away de frown,
Knock de haid o` worry,
Twell dey ain` none lef`;
Tek a little trouble,
Brothah, wid yo`se`f.
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