An’ when the childern used to catch
A glimpse o’ Poll avore the hatch,
The little things did run to meet
Their friend wi’ skippèn tott’rèn veet.
An’ thought noo other kiss so sweet
As hers; an’ nwone could vind em out
Such geämes to meäke em jump an’ shout,
As Poll they cluster’d round.
An’ now, since she’ve a-left em, all
The pleäce do miss her, girt an’ small.
In vaïn vor them the zun do sheen
Upon the lwonesome rwoad an’ green;
Their zwing do hang vorgot between
The leänen trees, vor they’ve a-lost
The best o’ maïdens, to their cost,
The maïd they cluster’d round.
LOOKS A-KNOW’D AVORE.
While zome, a-gwaïn from pleäce to pleäce,
Do daily meet wi’ zome new feäce,
When my day’s work is at an end,
Let me zit down at hwome, an’ spend
A happy hour wi’ zome wold friend,
An’ by my own vire-zide rejaïce
In zome wold naïghbour’s welcome vaïce,
An’ looks I know’d avore, John.
Why is it, friends that we’ve a-met
By zuns that now ha’ long a-zet,
Or winter vires that bleäzed for wold
An’ young vo’k, now vor ever cwold,
Be met wi’ jaÿ that can’t be twold?
Why, ’tis because they friends have all
Our youthvul spring ha’ left our fall,—
The looks we know’d avore, John.
