But dare.

The grass is greener, so it's said,
on t'other side, when one is dead,
with nicer folk and bluer sky,
and bigger plums in bigger pie.

With partner's fair beyond compare
where winter's chill's mere balmy air,
where softer sun just kisses skin,
and everyone is someone's kin.

And life on earth, a memory past,
in eternal life at last!
and would it be that I was there
in paradise, if I but dared...

Not sifting cinders on slag heaps
where sulphurous fumes come rank and reek
of Satan's world,as I scrat for coal
and hear the Chapel Bell's distant toll.