They went to lay their heavy heads
An’ weary bwones upon their beds.
An’ when the dewy mornèn broke,
An’ show’d the worold, fresh awoke,
Their godly work ageän, they vound
The beam they left upon the ground
A-put in pleäce, where still do bide,
An’ long enough to reach outzide.
But he unknown to tother men
Wer never there at work ageän:
Zoo whether he mid be a man
Or angel, wi’ a helpèn han’,
Or whether all o’t wer a dream,
They didden deäre to cut the beam.
THE VAÏCES THAT BE GONE.
When evenèn sheädes o’ trees do hide
A body by the hedge’s zide,
An’ twitt’rèn birds, wi’ plaÿsome flight,
Do vlee to roost at comèn night,
Then I do saunter out o’ zight
In orcha’d, where the pleäce woonce rung
Wi’ laughs a-laugh’d an’ zongs a-zung
By vaïces that be gone.
There’s still the tree that bore our swing,
An’ others where the birds did zing;
But long-leav’d docks do overgrow
The groun’ we trampled beäre below,
Wi’ merry skippèns to an’ fro
Bezide the banks, where Jim did zit
A-plaÿèn o’ the clarinit
To vaïces that be gone.
