While zome, a-gwain from pleaece to pleaece,
Do daily meet wi' zome new feaece,
When my day's work is at an end,
Let me zit down at hwome, an' spend
A happy hour wi' zome wold friend,
An' by my own vire-zide rejaice
In zome wold naighbour's welcome vaice,
An' looks I know'd avore, John.
Why is it, friends that we've a-met
By zuns that now ha' long a-zet,
Or winter vires that bleaezed for wold
An' young vo'k, now vor ever cwold,
Be met wi' jay that can't be twold?
Why, 'tis because they friends have all
Our youthvul spring ha' left our fall,—
The looks we know'd avore, John.
'Tis lively at a feaeir, among
The chatten, laughen, shiften drong,
When wold an' young, an' high an' low,
Do streamy round, an' to an' fro;
But what new feaece that we don't know,
Can ever meaeke woone's warm heart dance
Among ten thousan', lik' a glance
O' looks we know'd avore, John.
How of'en have the wind a-shook
The leaves off into yonder brook,
Since vu'st we two, in youthvul strolls,
Did ramble roun' them bubblen shoals!
An' oh! that zome o' them young souls,
That we, in jay, did play wi' then
Could come back now, an' bring ageaen
The looks we know'd avore, John.
So soon's the barley's dead an' down,
The clover-leaf do rise vrom groun',
An' wolder feaezen do but goo
To be a-vollow'd still by new;
But souls that be a-tried an' true
Shall meet ageaen beyond the skies,
An' bring to woone another's eyes
The looks they know'd avore, John.