The miles they wer vrom town,
Till the whip did crack
On the ho’ses back,
An’ the wheels did truckle roun’, good vo’k;
The wheels did truckle roun’.
An’ gaïly rod wold age or youth,
When zummer light did vall
On woods in leaf, or trees in blooth,
Or girt vo’ks parkzide wall.
An’ they thought they past
The pleäces vast,
Along the dousty groun’,
When the whip did smack
On the ho’ses’ back,
An’ the wheels spun swiftly roun’. Them days
The wheels spun swiftly roun’.
WAYFEAREN.
The sky wer clear, the zunsheen glow’d
On droopèn flowers drough the day,
As I did beät the dousty road
Vrom hinder hills, a-feädèn gray;
Drough hollows up the hills,
Vrom knaps along by mills,
Vrom mills by churches tow’rs, wi’ bells
That twold the hours to woody dells.
An’ when the windèn road do guide
The thirsty vootman where mid flow
The water vrom a rock bezide
His vootsteps, in a sheenèn bow;
The hand a-hollow’d up
Do beät a goolden cup,
To catch an’ drink it, bright an’ cool,
A-vallèn light ’ithin the pool.
