No, no, good Meaester Collins cried,
Why you've a good wife at your zide;
Zoo do believe the heart is true
That gi'ed up all bezide vor you,
An' still beheaeve as you begun
To seek the love that you've a-won
When woonce in dewy June,
In hours o' hope soft eyes did flash,
Each bright below his sheaedy lash,
A-glisnen to the moon.
Think how her girlhood met noo ceaere
To peaele the bloom her feaece did weaer,
An' how her glossy temple prest
Her pillow down, in still-feaeced rest,
While sheaedes o' window bars did vall
In moonlight on the gloomy wall,
In cool-air'd nights o' June;
The while her lids, wi' benden streaeks
O' lashes, met above her cheaeks,
A-bloomen to the moon.
Think how she left her childhood's pleaece,
An' only sister's long-known feaece,
An' brother's jokes so much a-miss'd,
An' mother's cheaek, the last a-kiss'd;
An' how she lighted down avore
Her new abode, a husband's door,
Your wedden night in June;
Wi' heart that beaet wi' hope an' fear,
While on each eye-lash hung a tear,
A-glisnen to the moon.
Think how her father zot all dum',
A-thinken on her, back at hwome,
The while grey axan gather'd thick,
On dyen embers, on the brick;
An' how her mother look'd abrode,
Drough window, down the moon-bright road,
Thik cloudless night o' June,
Wi' tears upon her lashes big
As rain-drops on a slender twig,
A-glisnen to the moon.
Zoo don't zit thoughtless at your cup
An' keep your wife a-waeiten up,
The while the clock's a-ticken slow
The chilly hours o' vrost an' snow,
Until the zinken candle's light
Is out avore her drowsy sight,
A-dimm'd wi' grief too soon;
A-leaeven there alwone to murn
The feaeden cheaek that woonce did burn,
A-bloomen to the moon.