#EnglishWriters
Sweet Be’mi’ster, that bist a-bou… By green an’ woody hills all round… Wi’ hedges, reachen up between A thousan’ vields o’ zummer green, Where elems’ lofty heads do drow
In the zunsheen of our zummers Wi’ the hay time now a-come, How busy wer we out a-vield Wi’ vew a-left at hwome, When waggons rumbled out ov yard
Ees: now mahogany’s the goo, An’ good wold English woak won’t… I wish vo’k always mid avvword Hot meals upon a woaken bwoard, As good as thik that took my cup
Now, Fanny, ’tis too bad, you tea… How leäte you be a’ come! Where h… How long you have a-meäde me waït… I thought you werden gwaïn to come… I had a mind to goo back hwome age…
Oh! Bob the fiddler is the pride O’ chaps an’ maidens vur an’ wide; They can’t keep up a merry tide, But Bob is in the middle. If merry Bob do come avore ye,
When evenen is a-drawen in, I’ll steal vrom others’ naisy din; An’ where the whirlen brook do rol… Below the walnut-tree, I’ll strol… An’ think o’ thee wi’ all my soul,
O, I be a carter, wi’ my whip A-smacken loud, as by my zide, Up over hill, an’ down the dip, The heavy lwoad do slowly ride. An’ I do haul in all the crops,
Ov all the chaps a-burnt so brown By zunny hills an’ hollors, Ov all the whindlen chaps in town Wi’ backs so weak as rollers, There’s narn that’s half so light…
The windless copse ha’ sheaedy bou… Wi’ blackbirds’ evenen whistles; The hills ha’ sheep upon their bro… The zummerleaeze ha’ thistles: The meaeds be gay in grassy May,
Ah! Jimmy vow’d he’d have the law Ov ouer cousin Poll’s Jack-daw, That had by day his withy jail A-hangen up upon a nail, Ageaen the elem tree, avore
Upon the hedge theaese bank did be… Wi’ lwonesome thought untwold in w… I woonce did work, wi’ noo sound t… But my own strokes, an’ chirpen bi… As down the west the zun went wan,
Come, run up hwome wi’ us to night… Athirt the vield a-vroze so white, Where vrosty sheaedes do lie below The winter ricks a-tipp’d wi’ snow… An’ lively birds, wi’ waggen tails…
Why ees, aunt Anne’s a little sta… But kind an’ merry, poor wold maid… If we don’t cut her heart wi’ slig… She’ll zit an’ put our things to r… Upon a hard day’s work, o’ nights;
Green mwold on zummer bars do show That they’ve a-dripped in winter w… The hoof-worn ring o’ groun’ below The tree do tell o’ storms or het; The trees in rank along a ledge
Pentridge!—oh! my heart’s a-zwelle… Vull o’ jay wi’ vo’k a-tellen Any news o’ thik wold pleaece, An’ the boughy hedges round it, An’ the river that do bound it