Jean ax'd what ribbon she should wear
'Ithin her bonnet to the feaeir?
She had woone white, a-gi'ed her when
She stood at Meaery's chrissenen;
She had woone brown, she had woone red,
A keepseaeke vrom her brother dead,
That she did like to wear, to goo
To zee his greaeve below the yew.
She had woone green among her stock,
That I'd a-bought to match her frock;
She had woone blue to match her eyes,
The colour o' the zummer skies,
An' thik, though I do like the rest,
Is he that I do like the best,
Because she had en in her heaeir
When vu'st I walk'd wi' her at feaeir.
The brown, I zaid, would do to deck
Thy heaeir; the white would match thy neck;
The red would meaeke thy red cheaek wan
A-thinken o' the gi'er gone;
The green would show thee to be true;
But still I'd sooner zee the blue,
Because 'twer he that deck'd thy heaeir
When vu'st I walk'd wi' thee at feaeir.
Zoo, when she had en on, I took
Her han' 'ithin my elbow's crook,
An' off we went athirt the weir
An' up the meaed toward the feaeir;
The while her mother, at the geaete,
Call'd out an' bid her not stay leaete,
An' she, a-smilen wi' her bow
O' blue, look'd roun' and nodded, No.