Since we wer striplens naighbour… The good wold merry times be gone: But we do like to think upon What we’ve a-zeed an’ done. When I wer up a hardish lad,

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…

If I had all the land my zight Can overlook vrom Chalwell hill, Vrom Sherborn left to Blanvord ri… Why I could be but happy still. An’ I be happy wi’ my spot

Upon theaese knap I’d sooner be The ivy that do climb the tree, Than bloom the gayest rwose a-tied An’ trimm’d upon the house’s zide. The rwose mid be the maidens’ prid…

We took the apples in last week, An’ got, by night, zome eaechen ba… A-stoopen down all day to pick So many up in mawns an’ zacks. An’ there wer Liz so proud an’ pr…

Well, Tom, how be’st? Zoo thou’st… Among the leaguers, then, as I’ve… Aye, John, I have, John; an’ I b… To own it. Why, who woulden do th… We shant goo on lik’ this long, I…

When dewy fall’s red leaves do vle… 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;

Ah! they vew zummers brought us ro… The happiest days that we’ve a-vou… When in the orcha’d, that did stra… To westward out avore the patch Ov high-bough’d wood, an’ shelve t…

When in happy times we met, Then by look an’ deed I show’d, How my love wer all a-zet In the smiles that she bestow’d. She mid have, o’ left an’ right,

The house where I wer born an’ br… Did own his woaken door, John, When vu’st he shelter’d father’s h… An’ gramfer’s long avore, John. An’ many a ramblen happy chile,

Don’t try to win a maiden’s heart, To leaeve her in her love,—'tis wr… ’Tis bitter to her soul to peaert Wi’ woone that is her sweetheart l… A maid’s vu’st love is always stro…

Why tidden vields an’ runnen brook… Nor trees in Spring or fall; An’ tidden woody slopes an’ nooks, Do touch us mwost ov all; An’ tidden ivy that do cling

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…

Oh! Bob the fiddler is the pride O’ chaps an’ maidens vur an’ wide; They can’t keep up a merry tide, But Bob is in the middle. If merry Bob do come avore ye,

When in the evenen the zun’s a-zin… A drowen sheaedes vrom the yollow… An’ mother, weary, 's a-zot a thin… Wi’ vwolded eaerms by the vire at… Then we do zwarm, O,