A. Back here, but now, the jobber Jo… Come by, an’ cried, 'Well done, z… I thought as I come down the hill… An’ heärd your zongs a-ringèn sh’i…

You’ll lose your meaester soon, th… He’s gwain to leaeve his farm, as… At Mielmas; an’ I be zorry vor’n. What, is he then a little bit behi… O no! at Mielmas his time is up,

In brown-leav’d Fall the wheat a-… 'Ithin its darksome bed, Where all the creaken roller’s hef… Seal’d down its lowly head, Sprung sheaeken drough the crumble…

‘Ithin the woodlands, flow’ry glea… By the woak tree’s mossy moot, The sheenen grass bleades, timber-… Now do quiver under voot; An’ birds do whissle auver head,

My love is the maid ov all maidens… Though all mid be comely, Her skin’s lik’ the jessamy blosso… A-spread in the Spring. Her smile is so sweet as a beaeby’…

When out below the trees, that dro… Their scraggy lim’s athirt the roa… While evenen zuns, a’most a-zet, Gi’ed goolden light, but little he… The merry chaps an’ maidens met,

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…

When, leaete o’ nights, above the… By thik wold house, the moon do sh… A leaedy there, a-hangen low Her head, 's a-walken to an’ fro In robes so white’s the driven sno…

O wild-reaeven west winds; as you… The elems do rock an’ the poplars… An’ weaeve do dreve weaeve in the… Oh! where do ye rise vrom, an’ whe… O wild-reaeven winds I do wish I…

Last Easter Jim put on his blue Frock cwoat, the vu’st time—vier n… Wi’ yollow buttons all o’ brass, That glitter’d in the zun lik’ gla… An’ pok’d 'ithin the button-hole

No, I’m a man, I’m vull a man, You beaet my manhood, if you can. You’ll be a man if you can teaeke All steaetes that household life d… The love-toss’d child, a-croodlen…

Poor Jenny wer her Robert’s bride Two happy years, an’ then he died; An’ zoo the wold vo’k meaede her c… Vorseaeken, to her maiden hwome. But Jenny’s merry tongue wer dum’…

When leaezers wi’ their laps o’ co… Noo longer be a-stoopen, An’ in the stubble, all vorlorn, Noo poppies be a-droopen; When theaese young harvest-moon do…

Though cool avore the sheenen sky Do vall the sheaedes below the cop… The timber-trees, a-reachen high, Ha’ zunsheen on their lofty tops, Where yonder land’s a-lyen plow’d,

While now upon the win’ do zwell The church-bells’ evenen peal, O, Along the bottom, who can tell How touch’d my heart do veel, O. To hear ageaen, as woonce they run…