Winter: The Carter
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,
An’ I do bring in vuzz vrom down;
An’ I do goo vor wood to copse,
An’ car the corn an’ straw to town.
An’ I do goo vor lime, an’ bring
Hwome cider wi’ my sleek-heaeir’d team,
An’ smack my limber whip an’ zing,
While all their bells do gaily cheeme.
An’ I do always know the pleaece
To gi’e the hosses breath, or drug;
An’ ev’ry hoss do know my feaece,
An’ mind my '_mether ho_! an’ _whug_!
An’ merry hay-meaekers do ride
Vrom vield in zummer wi’ their prongs,
In my blue waggon, zide by zide
Upon the reaeves, a-zingen zongs.
An’ when the vrost do catch the stream,
An’ oves wi’ icicles be hung,
My panten hosses’ breath do steam
In white-grass’d vields, a-haulen dung.
An’ mine’s the waggon fit vor lwoads,
An’ mine be lwoads to cut a rout;
An’ mine’s a team, in routy rwoads,
To pull a lwoaded waggon out.
A zull is nothen when do come
Behind their lags; an’ they do teaeke
A roller as they would a drum,
An’ harrow as they would a reaeke.
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.
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