The zun, O Jessie, while his feaece do rise
In vi'ry skies, a-shedden out his light
On yollow corn a-weaeven down below
His yollow glow, is gay avore the zight.
By two an' two,
How goodly things do goo,
A-matchen woone another to fulvill
The goodness ov their Meaeker's will.
How bright the spreaden water in the lew
Do catch the blue, a-sheenen vrom the sky;
How true the grass do teaeke the dewy bead
That it do need, while dousty roads be dry.
By peaeir an' peaeir
Each thing's a-meaede to sheaere
The good another can bestow,
In wisdom's work down here below.
The lowest lim's o' trees do seldom grow
A-spread too low to gi'e the cows a sheaede;
The air's to bear the bird, the bird's to rise;
Vor light the eyes, vor eyes the light's a-meaede.
'Tis gi'e an' teaeke,
An' woone vor others' seaeke;
In peaeirs a-worken out their ends,
Though men be foes that should be friends.