An’ on the grassy terrace, bright
Wi’ white-bloom’d zummer’s deäisy beds,
An’ snow-white lilies noddèn heads,
Sweet Linda Deäne did walk in white;
But ah! avore too high a door,
Wer Linda Deäne ov Ellendon.
When sparklèn brooks an’ grassy ground,
By keen-aïr’d Winter’s vrost wer bound,
An’ star-bright snow did streak the forms
O’ beäre-lim’d trees in darksome storms,
Sweet Linda Deäne did lightly glide,
Wi’ snow-white robe an’ rwosy feäce,
Upon the smooth-vloor’d hall, to treäce
The merry dance o’ Chris’mas tide;
But oh! not mine be balls so fine
As Linda Deäne’s at Ellendon.
Sweet Linda Deäne do match the skies
Wi’ sheenèn blue o’ glisnèn eyes,
An’ feaïrest blossoms do but show
Her forehead’s white, an’ feäce’s glow;
But there’s a winsome jaÿ above,
The brightest hues ov e’th an’ skies.
The dearest zight o’ many eyes,
Would be the smile o’ Linda’s love;
But high above my lowly love
Is Linda Deäne ov Ellendon.
