An’ she a-steärèn in a fright,
Wer glad enough to zee em light
Where we did keep our flagon.
An’ when white clover wer a-sprung
Among the eegrass, green an’ young,
An’ elder-flowers wer a-spread
Among the rwosen white an’ red,
An’ honeyzucks wi’ hangèn head,—
O’ Zunday evenèns we did zit
To look all roun’ the grounds a bit,
Where we’d a-kept our flagon.
WEEK’S END IN ZUMMER, IN THE WOLD VO’K’S TIME.
His aunt an’ uncle,—ah! the kind
Wold souls be often in my mind:
A better couple never stood
In shoes, an’ vew be voun’ so good.
She cheer’d the work-vo’k in their tweils
Wi’ timely bits an’ draps, an’ smiles;
An’ he païd all o’m at week’s end,
Their money down to goo an’ spend.
In zummer, when week’s end come roun’
The haÿ-meäkers did come vrom groun’,
An’ all zit down, wi’ weary bwones,
Within the yard a-peäved wi’ stwones,
Along avore the peäles, between
The yard a-steän’d an’ open green.
There women zot wi’ bare-neck’d chaps,
An’ maïdens wi’ their sleeves an’ flaps
To screen vrom het their eärms an’ polls,
An’ men wi’ beards so black as coals:
