Ov all the roads that ever bridge
Did bear athirt a river's feaece,
Or ho'ses up an' down the ridge
Did wear to doust at ev'ry peaece,
I'll teaeke the Stalton leaene to tread,
By banks wi' primrwose-beds bespread,
An' steaetely elems over head,
Where Ruth do come a-riden.
An' I would rise when vields be grey
Wi' mornen dew, avore 'tis dry,
An' beaet the doust droughout the day
To bluest hills ov all the sky;
If there, avore the dusk o' night,
The evenen zun, a-sheenen bright,
Would pay my leaebors wi' the zight
O' Ruth—o' Ruth a-riden.
Her healthy feaece is rwosy feaeir,
She's comely in her gait an' lim',
An' sweet's the smile her feaece do wear,
Below her cap's well-rounded brim;
An' while her skirt's a-spreaeden wide,
In vwolds upon the ho'se's zide,
He'll toss his head, an' snort wi' pride,
To trot wi' Ruth a-riden.
An' as her ho'se's rottlen peaece
Do slacken till his veet do beaet
A slower trot, an' till her feaece
Do bloom avore the tollman's geaete;
Oh! he'd be glad to oben wide
His high-back'd geaete, an' stand azide,
A-given up his toll wi' pride,
Vor zight o' Ruth a-riden.
An' oh! that Ruth could be my bride,
An' I had ho'ses at my will,
That I mid teaeke her by my zide,
A-riden over dell an' hill;
I'd zet wi' pride her litty tooe
'Ithin a stirrup, sheenen new,
An' leaeve all other jays to goo
Along wi' Ruth a-riden.
If maidens that be weaek an' peaele
A-mwopen in the house's sheaede,
Would wish to be so blithe and heaele
As you did zee young Ruth a-meaede;
Then, though the zummer zun mid glow,
Or though the Winter win' mid blow,
They'd leaep upon the saddle's bow,
An' goo, lik' Ruth, a-riden.
While evenen light do sof'ly gild
The moss upon the elem's bark,
Avore the zingen bird's a-still'd,
Or woods be dim, or day is dark,
Wi' quiv'ren grass avore his breast,
In cowslip beds, do lie at rest,
The ho'se that now do goo the best
Wi' rwosy Ruth a-riden.