Then though the birds do still the glee
That sounded in the zummer tree,
My heart is light the winter drough,
In me’th at night, wi’—I know who.
JESSIE LEE.
Above the timber’s bendèn sh’ouds,
The western wind did softly blow;
An’ up avore the knap, the clouds
Did ride as white as driven snow.
Vrom west to east the clouds did zwim
Wi’ wind that plied the elem’s lim’;
Vrom west to east the stream did glide,
A-sheenèn wide, wi’ windèn brim.
How feäir, I thought, avore the sky
The slowly-zwimmfen clouds do look;
How soft the win’s a-streamèn by;
How bright do roll the weävy brook:
When there, a-passèn on my right,
A-walkèn slow, an’ treadèn light,
Young Jessie Lee come by, an’ there
Took all my ceäre, an’ all my zight.
Vor lovely wer the looks her feäce
Held up avore the western sky:
An’ comely wer the steps her peäce
Did meäke a-walkèn slowly by:
But I went east, wi’ beätèn breast,
Wi’ wind, an’ cloud, an’ brook, vor rest,
Wi’ rest a-lost, vor Jessie gone
So lovely on, toward the west.
