BY time's a-brought the mornèn light,

By time the light do weäne; wane

By time's a-brought the young man's might,

By time his might do weäne;

The Winter snow do whitèn grass,

The zummer flow'rs do brightèn grass,

Vor zome things we do lose wi’ païn,

We've mwore that mid be jaÿ to gaïn, may, joy

An’ my dear life do seem the seäme

While at my zide

There still do bide

Your welcome feäce an’ hwomely neäme.

Wi’ ev'ry day that woonce come on once

I had to choose a jaÿ,

Wi’ many that be since a-gone

I had to lose a jaÿ.

Drough longsome years a-wanderèn, through

Drough lwonesome rest a-ponderèn,

Woone peaceful daytime wer a-bro't one, brought

To heal the heart another smote;

But my dear life do seem the seäme

While I can hear,

A-soundèn near,

Your answ'rèn vaïce an’ long-call'd neäme.

An’ oh! that hope, when life do dawn,

Should rise to light our waÿ,

An’ then, wi’ weänèn het withdrawn, heat

Should soon benight our waÿ.

Whatever mid beval me still, may

Wherever chance mid call me still,

Though leäte my evenèn tweil mid cease, toil

An’ though my night mid lose its peace,

My life will seem to me the seäme

While you do sheäre

My daily ceäre,

An’ answer to your long-call'd neäme.