’Tis gi’e an’ teäke,
An’ woone vor others’ seäke;
In peäirs a-workèn out their ends,
Though men be foes that should be friends.
THE LEW O’ THE RICK.
At eventide the wind wer loud
By trees an’ tuns above woone’s head,
An’ all the sky wer woone dark cloud,
Vor all it had noo raïn to shed;
An’ as the darkness gather’d thick,
I zot me down below a rick,
Where straws upon the win’ did ride
Wi’ giddy flights, along my zide,
Though unmolestèn me a-restèn,
Where I laÿ ’ithin the lew.
My wife’s bright vier indoors did cast
Its fleäme upon the window peänes
That screen’d her teäble, while the blast
Vied on in music down the leänes;
An’ as I zot in vaïceless thought
Ov other zummer-tides, that brought
The sheenèn grass below the lark,
Or left their ricks a-wearèn dark,
My childern voun’ me, an’ come roun’ me,
Where I laÿ ’ithin the lew.
The rick that then did keep me lew
Would be a-gone another Fall,
An’ I, in zome years, in a vew,
