Wi’ litty voot an’ beätèn heart
She stepp’d up in the new light cart,
An’ took her bridemaïd up to ride
Along wi’ Robert at her zide:
An’ uncle’s meäre look’d roun’ wi’ pride
To zee that, if the cart wer vull,
’Twer Jenny that he had to pull,
Her weddèn day in mornèn.
An’ aunt an’ uncle stood stock-still,
An’ watch’d em trottèn down the hill;
An’ when they turn’d off out o’ groun’
Down into leäne, two tears run down
Aunt’s feäce; an’ uncle, turnèn roun’,
Sigh’d woonce, an’ stump’d off wi’ his stick,
Because did touch en to the quick
To peärt wi’ Jeane thik mornèn.
“Now Jeäne’s agone,” Tom mutter’d, “we
Shall mwope lik’ owls ’ithin a tree;
Vor she did zet us all agog
Vor fun, avore the burnèn log.”
An’ as he zot an’ talk’d, the dog
Put up his nose athirt his thighs,
But coulden meäke en turn his eyes,
Jeäne’s weddèn day in mornèn.
An’ then the naïghbours round us, all
By woones an’ twos begun to call,
To meet the young vo’k, when the meäre
Mid bring em back a married peäir:
An’ all o’m zaid, to Robert’s sheäre,
There had a-vell the feärest feäce,
An’ kindest heart in all the pleäce,
Jeäne’s weddèn day in mornèn.
