Summer: The Evenen Star O’ Zummer
When vu’st along theaese road vrom mill,
I zeed ye hwome all up the hill,
The poplar tree, so straight an’ tall,
Did rustle by the watervall;
An’ in the leaeze the cows wer all
A-lyen down to teaeke their rest
An’ slowly zunk toward the west
The evenen star o’ zummer.
In parrock there the hay did lie
In weaele below the elems, dry;
An’ up in hwome-groun’ Jim, that know’d
We all should come along thik road,
D a-tied the grass in knots that drow’d
Poor Poll, a-watchen in the West
Woone brighter star than all the rest,—
The evenen star o’ zummer.
The stars that still do zet an’ rise,
Did sheen in our forefather’s eyes;
They glitter’d to the vu’st men’s zight,
The last will have em in their night;
But who can vind em half so bright
As I thought thik peaele star above
My smilen Jeaene, my zweet vu’st love,
The evenen star o’ zummer.
How sweet’s the mornen fresh an’ new,
Wi’ sparklen brooks an’ glitt’ren dew;
How sweet’s the noon wi’ sheaedes a-drow’d
Upon the groun’ but leaetely mow’d,
An’ bloomen flowers all abrode;
But sweeter still, as I do clim’,
Theaese woody hill in evenen dim
'S the evenen star o’ zummer.
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