Wi’ grægles’ bells a-droopèn low,
An’ bremble boughs a-stoopèn low;
While culvers in the trees did coo
Above the vallèn dew.
An’ there, wi’ heäir o’ glossy black,
Bezide your neck an’ down your back,
You rambled gaÿ a-bloomèn feäir;
By boughs o’ maÿ a-bloomèn feäir;
An’ while the birds did twitter nigh,
An’ water weäves did glitter nigh,
You gather’d cowslips in the lew,
Below the vallèn dew.
An’ now, while you’ve a-been my bride
As years o’ flow’rs ha’ bloom’d an’ died,
Your smilèn feäce ha’ been my jaÿ;
Your soul o’ greäce ha’ been my jaÿ;
An’ wi’ my evenèn rest a-come,
An’ zunsheen to the west a-come,
I’m glad to teäke my road to you
Vrom vields o’ vallèn dew.
An’ when the raïn do wet the maÿ,
A-bloomèn where we woonce did straÿ,
An’ win’ do blow along so vast,
An’ streams do flow along so vast;
Ageän the storms so rough abroad,
An’ angry tongues so gruff abroad,
The love that I do meet vrom you
Is lik’ the vallèn dew.
An’ you be sprack’s a bee on wing,
In search ov honey in the Spring:
The dawn-red sky do meet ye up;
The birds vu’st cry do meet ye up;
