That she did like to wear, to goo
To zee his greäve below the yew.
She had woone green among her stock,
That I’d a-bought to match her frock;
She had woone blue to match her eyes,
The colour o’ the zummer skies,
An’ thik, though I do like the rest,
Is he that I do like the best,
Because she had en in her heäir
When vu’st I walk’d wi’ her at feäir
The brown, I zaid, would do to deck
Thy heäir; the white would match thy neck;
The red would meäke thy red cheäk wan
A-thinkèn o’ the gi’er gone;
The green would show thee to be true;
But still I’d sooner zee the blue,
Because ’twer he that deck’d thy heäir
When vu’st I walk’d wi’ thee at feäir.
Zoo, when she had en on, I took
Her han’ ’ithin my elbow’s crook.
An’ off we went athirt the weir
An’ up the meäd toward the feäir;
The while her mother, at the geäte,
Call’d out an’ bid her not staÿ leäte,
An’ she, a-smilèn wi’ her bow
O’ blue, look’d roun’ and nodded, No.
