When dewy fall’s red leaves do vlee
Along the grass below the tree,
Or lie in yollow beds a-shook
Upon the shallow-water’d brook,
Or drove 'ithin a sheaedy nook;
Then softly, in the evenen, down
The knap do steal along the groun’
The veaeiry veet that I do meet
Below the row o’ beech trees.
’Tis jist avore the candle-light
Do redden windows up at night,
An’ peaeler stars do light the vogs
A-risen vrom the brooks an’ bogs,
An’ when in barkens yoppen dogs
Do bark at vo’k a-comen near,
Or growl a-lis’enen to hear
The veaeiry veet that I do meet
Below the row o’ beech trees.
Dree times a-year do bless the road
O’ womanhood a-gwain abrode:
When vu’st her litty veet do tread
The eaerly May’s white deaeisy bed:
When leaves be all a-scattered dead;
An’ when the winter’s vrozen grass
Do glissen in the zun lik’ glass
Vor veaeiry veet that I do meet
Below the row o’ beech trees.