Oh! if my ling'ren life should run,
Drough years a-reckoned ten by ten,
Below the never-tiren zun,
Till beaebes ageaen be wives an' men;
An' stillest deafness should ha' bound
My ears, at last, vrom ev'ry sound;
Though still my eyes in that sweet light,
Should have the zight o' sky an' ground:
Would then my steaete
In time so leaete,
Be jay or pain, be pain or jay?
When Zunday then, a-weaenen dim,
As theaese that now's a-clwosen still,
Mid lose the zun's down-zinken rim,
In light behind the vier-bound hill;
An' when the bells' last peal's a-rung,
An' I mid zee the wold an' young
A-vlocken by, but shoulden hear,
However near, a voot or tongue:
Mid zuch a zight,
In that soft light
Be jay or pain, be pain or jay.
If I should zee among em all,
In merry youth, a-gliden by,
My son's bwold son, a-grown man-tall,
Or daughter's daughter, woman-high;
An' she mid smile wi' your good feaece,
Or she mid walk your comely peaece,
But seem, although a-chatten loud,
So dumb's a cloud, in that bright pleaece:
Would youth so feaeir,
A-passen there,
Be jay or pain, be pain or jay.
'Tis seldom strangth or comeliness
Do leaeve us long. The house do show
Men's sons wi' mwore, as they ha' less,
An' daughters brisk, vor mothers slow.
A dawn do clear the night's dim sky,
Woone star do zink, an' woone goo high,
An' liven gifts o' youth do vall,
Vrom girt to small, but never die:
An' should I view,
What God mid do,
Wi' jay or pain, wi' pain or jay?