No: where the woak do overspread, oak

The grass begloom'd below his head,

An’ water, under bowèn zedge, bending

A-springèn vrom the river's edge,

Do ripple, as the win’ do blow,

An’ sparkle, as the sky do glow;

An’ grey-leav'd withy-boughs do cool, willow-

Wi’ darksome sheädes, the clear-feäced pool, shadows

My chimny smoke, 'ithin the lew shelter

O’ trees is there arisèn blue;

Avore the night do dim our zight,

Or candle-light, a-sheenèn bright, shining

Do sparkle drough the window. through

When crumpled leaves o’ Fall do bound

Avore the wind, along the ground,

An’ wither'd bennet-stems do stand grass-stalks

A-quiv'rèn on the chilly land;

The while the zun, wi’ zettèn rim,

Do leäve the workman's pathway dim;

An’ sweet-breath'd childern's hangèn heads

Be laid wi’ kisses, on their beds;

Then I do seek my woodland nest,

An’ zit bezide my vier at rest, fire

While night's a-spread, where day's a-vled, flown by

An’ lights do shed their beams o’ red,

A-sparklèn drough the window.

If winter's whistlèn winds do vreeze

The snow a-gather'd on the trees,

An’ sheädes o’ poplar stems do vall shadows, trunks

In moonlight up athirt the wall; across

An’ icicles do hang below

The oves, a-glitt'rèn in a row, eaves

An’ risèn stars do slowly ride

Above the ruf's upslantèn zide; roof's

Then I do lay my weary head

Asleep upon my peaceful bed,

When middle-night ha’ quench'd the light

Ov embers bright, an’ candles white

A-beamèn drough the window.