Fall: Mornen
When vu’st the breaken day is red,
An’ grass is dewy wet,
An’ roun’ the blackberry’s a-spread
The spider’s gliss’nen net,
Then I do dreve the cows across
The brook that’s in a vog,
While they do trot, an’ bleaere, an’ toss
Their heads to hook the dog;
Vor the cock do gi’e me warnen,
An’ light or dark,
So brisk’s a lark,
I’m up at break o’ mornen.
Avore the maiden’s sleep’s a-broke
By window-striken zun,
Avore the busy wife’s vu’st smoke
Do curl above the tun,
My day’s begun. An’ when the zun
'S a-zinken in the west,
The work the mornen brought’s a-done,
An’ I do goo to rest,
Till the cock do gi’e me warnen;
An’ light or dark,
So brisk’s a lark,
I’m up ageaen nex’ mornen.
We can’t keep back the daily zun,
The wind is never still,
An’ never ha’ the streams a-done
A-runnen down at hill.
Zoo they that ha’ their work to do,
Should do’t so soon’s they can;
Vor time an’ tide will come an’ goo,
An’ never wait vor man,
As the cock do gi’e me warnen;
When, light or dark,
So brisk’s a lark,
I’m up so rathe in mornen.
We’ve leaezes where the air do blow,
An’ meaeds wi’ deaeiry cows,
An’ copse wi’ lewth an’ sheaede below
The overhangen boughs.
An’ when the zun, noo time can tire,
'S a-quench’d below the west,
Then we’ve, avore the bleaezen vire,
A settle vor to rest,—
To be up ageaen nex’ mornen
So brisk’s a lark,
When, light or dark,
The cock do gi’e us warnen.
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