No: where the woak do overspread,
The grass begloom'd below his head,
An' water, under bowen zedge,
A-springen 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,
Wi' darksome sheaedes, the clear-feaeced pool,
My chimny smoke, 'ithin the lew
O' trees is there arisen blue;
Avore the night do dim our zight,
Or candle-light, a-sheenen bright,
Do sparkle drough the window.
When crumpled leaves o' Fall do bound
Avore the wind, along the ground,
An' wither'd bennet-stems do stand
A-quiv'ren on the chilly land;
The while the zun, wi' zetten rim,
Do leaeve the workman's pathway dim;
An' sweet-breath'd childern's hangen heads
Be laid wi' kisses, on their beds;
Then I do seek my woodland nest,
An' zit bezide my vier at rest,
While night's a-spread, where day's a-vled,
An' lights do shed their beams o' red,
A-sparklen drough the window.
If winter's whistlen winds do vreeze
The snow a-gather'd on the trees,
An' sheaedes o' poplar stems do vall
In moonlight up athirt the wall;
An' icicles do hang below
The oves, a-glitt'ren in a row,
An' risen stars do slowly ride
Above the ruf's upslanten zide;
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-beamen drough the window.