But when he’s a-laid on his bed
In a zickness, O, what wull he do!
Vor the hands that would lift up his head,
An’ sheäke up his pillor anew.
Ills to come! pills to come! bills to come!
Noo soul to sheäre
The trials the poor wratch must bear.
MARRIED PEÄIR’S LOVE WALK.
Come let’s goo down the grove to-night;
The moon is up, ’tis all so light
As day, an’ win’ do blow enough
To sheäke the leaves, but tiddèn rough.
Come, Esther, teäke, vor wold time’s seäke,
Your hooded cloke, that’s on the pin,
An’ wrap up warm, an’ teäke my eärm,
You’ll vind it better out than in.
Come, Etty dear; come out o’ door,
An’ teäke a sweetheart’s walk woonce mwore.
How charmèn to our very souls,
Wer woonce your evenèn maïden strolls,
The while the zettèn zunlight dyed
Wi’ red the beeches’ western zide,
But back avore your vinger wore
The weddèn ring that’s now so thin;
An’ you did sheäre a mother’s ceäre,
To watch an’ call ye eärly in.
Come, Etty dear; come out o’ door,
An’ teäke a sweetheart’s walk woonce mwore.
An’ then ageän, when you could slight
The clock a-strikèn leäte at night,
The while the moon, wi’ risèn rim,
Did light the beeches’ eastern lim’.
