On the road I did look round, a-talkèn
To light at my shoulder,
An’ then led her in at the door-way,
Miles wide vrom Woak Hill.
An’ that’s why vo’k thought, vor a season,
My mind wer a-wandrèn
Wi’ sorrow, when I wer so sorely
A-tried at Woak Hill.
But no; that my Meäry mid never
Behold herzelf slighted,
I wanted to think that I guided
My guide vrom Woak Hill.
THE HEDGER.
Upon the hedge theäse bank did bear,
Wi’ lwonesome thought untwold in words,
I woonce did work, wi’ noo sound there
But my own strokes, an’ chirpèn birds;
As down the west the zun went wan,
An’ days brought on our Zunday’s rest,
When sounds o’ cheemèn bells did vill
The aïr, an’ hook an’ axe wer still.
Along the wold town-path vo’k went,
An’ met unknown, or friend wi’ friend,
The maïd her busy mother zent,
The mother wi’ noo maïd to zend;
An’ in the light the gleäzier’s glass,
As he did pass, wer dazzlèn bright,
Or woone went by wi’ down-cast head,
A wrapp’d in blackness vor the dead.
