ALL up the down's cool brow

I work'd in noontide's gleäre,

On where the slow-wheel'd plow wagon

'D a-wore the grass half bare.

An’ gil'cups quiver'd quick, buttercups

As aïr did pass,

An’ deäisies huddled thick

Among the grass.

The while my eärms did swing arms

Wi’ work I had on hand,

The quick-wing'd lark did zing

Above the green-tree'd land,

An’ bwoys below me chafed

The dog vor fun,

An’ he, vor all they laef'd, laughed

Did meäke em run.

The south zide o’ the hill,

My own tun-smoke rose blue,— chimney-

In North Coomb, near the mill,

My mother's wer in view—

Where woonce her vier vor all once, fire

Ov us did burn,

As I have childern small

Round mine in turn.

An’ zoo I still wull cheer so

Her life wi’ my small store,

As she do drop a tear

Bezide her lwonesome door.

The love that I do owe

Her ruf, I'll paÿ, roof

An’ then zit down below

My own wi’ jaÿ.